#i always assumed he had the mask before but it would make sense if he didn't

[kalpasio]

Oh!! Speaking of Kelp at the orphanage, I was looking through my camera roll and I ran across that picture of him again. I looked closer at his old mask and I’m like “what the hell is that supposed to be??”. Then I was plagued by visions. His mask struck me as a little weird, because at a time where honkai was running rampant, I doubt he would have had the time to stop at a Spirit Halloween and buy one.

I thought the texture kind of resembled wood and I remembered that he had wooden figures in his luggage— so like what if it was a keepsake one of the kids carved for him?? If I remember correctly, there was a cutscene where there were some kids (presumably infected with honkai), sitting under a tree, so maybe the tree ACTUALLY has some significance, but frankly I think I’m becoming delusional. It’s more likely that the devs were just like… “huh this looks cool” and slapped it on him. I can only dream 😔

-yo hey anon AGAIN I am so sorry

I think, I'm not 100% sure, but I think, he had the mask before coming to the orphanage? cause aponia just pulled him off the streets like some sort of kidnapper and I don't think it's said if he had it at that point or not but I've always just assumed he did?

I do know that in chapter three? you can try to talk to Kalpas and ask about the mask and he tells you to fuck off 🧡 and then Elysia comes over and will answer your questions and you can ask her about the mask and she says it was just like a super common kids mask you could buy anywhere lol and then I think Sakura confirms this?

the kids giving him the mask makes a lot more sense to me tho. like man's insane but not to the point of just wearing a mask for no reason, and I think sentimentality is extremely high on his list of good reasons lol

[obsessivelullabies]

— being mafia!tf141's assistant.

warnings : possessive, yandere behavior. fem reader.

a/n : i've never written mafia before? i hope this makes sense?? i plan to write four different parts for each of them individually!

— in all honesty, your relations with the mafia were completely accidental. you were a naive young woman in search of work. being some rich guy's assistant sounded easy enough. you did find it a little funny how there was no traditional interview process, just a bunch of slightly sketchy paperwork sent your way. luckily for you, you got the job!

— you were told an address, so you showed up. it turned out to be a massive house, which was even more shady. as you stood outside the door, a little too frightened to knock, you realized how sketchy it all was.

as you were lost in thought, the door swung open, revealing a muscular, shirtless man. he was only adorned in a pair of black boxers, he looked slightly peeved.

"who the fuck are you?" he acknowledged you after eyeing you up and down.

your eyes gazed on his firm chest due to how he nearly towered over you with his height. "i'm the new assistant.." you practically squeaked back at him.

the man grinned suddenly, his demeanor changing. "come in," he stepped aside, allowing you inside their home.

— the place was slightly cluttered as he showed you around, he introduced himself as soap. you assumed, or rather, hoped, it was a nickname. soap was immediately very touchy feely with you, slinging his arm around your waist or shoulder, running his large hand down the small of your back, stopping at your hips.

— soap showed you what your jobs were, things such as cleaning, cooking and basically whatever one of the men needed at the moment. he told you about the three other men, gaz, ghost and price. from what you gathered; they ran some kind of business. every mention of it was vague, yet you picked up that price was the 'boss' of sorts.

— after a lot of chatter, soap left your side and allowed you to work. the next man you met was just coming home, he was dressed fancily, seeming to be in a rush. he was quiet and polite, taking the time to introduce himself. gaz. soap hadn't said much about him.

— gaz was a sweetheart to you, asking you questions about yourself, apologizing for the slight mess in their home. you were excited to work for the two; both seemed pleasant to be around.

— the first two weeks of your job went by smoothly, soap and gaz would often lounge in whatever room you were in, chatting mindlessly to you. you would even say you bonded with the two.

— soap adored how good of an assistant you were. he loved eating your cooking, how you always made sure he liked your efforts. you were so obedient. so perfect for him.

— gaz had grown attached to your pretty little voice. you were so polite. he found it so cute how naive you were, how you never questioned what he did for work. he had a petname for you, ‘gorgeous’. with how much he called you it, you wondered if he even knew your real name.

— when price and ghost returned from their ‘business’, they were both relived to finally have some help. they showed it in different ways.

— at the start, ghost basically ignored you. his skull mask frightened you anyway. he only spoke to you to give you commands, yet over time, your charm grew on him. still, he wasn’t very talkative. he’d request your silent company. something to make him feel less alone.

— price, the boss, was very dominating. he appreciated your hard work, which soap and gaz had told him about. price thought you were adorable as a small animal. something to be protected and pet. every morning when you first got to work, you would make his tea for him. these slowly became his favorite moments.

— the longer you worked for them, the more mysterious they all became. they were vague whenever you hinted at your curiosity. you decided not to pry.

— you were unaware how possessive they’d all became. how they vied for you and yours affections. when price practically demanded you work longer hours, you just assumed you were a super good assistant.

— the four men became obsessive over you after only a few months. your life had gotten.. complicated ever since. especially when you learned what they really did.

masterlist.

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie? || Part 2.

Pairing: Dom!Bucky x Sub!female reader

Summary: After accidentally revealing that you have a masked man kink, Bucky starts taking it to the next level. The reveal!

Warnings: Smut- MDNI please!, unprotected sexual intercourse (p in v), don't forget no glove no love, edging, asphyxiation, fingering, mild dirty talk, language, praise kink, masked man kink, stalking, harassment, implied harm, breaking in.

Word Count: 5.4

A/Ns: Hi babes! Sorry this took an extra day than intended. Tumblr is being super finicky tonight, I’ve edited and re-edited this so many times. If there’s mistakes just ignore. I hope you like the conclusion!

In case you missed it, Part 1

You didn’t sleep much the next couple of nights, and decided to take some time off of work. Bucky finally reached out, and you updated him as to what was going on. He immediately offered to come home, which you refused and started to downplay the situation.

Hailee has been great with letting you borrow some clothes and little things, since you only grabbed a small bag in a rush before heading to her place to stay a few days ago. You’ve been dreading going back to the apartment, scared to find someone in there waiting for you. But it’s at the point where you need to grab some of your stuff.

Walking into the apartment, it was eerily quiet and uncomfortable. But nothing looked out of place, and was exactly how you left it. Deciding not to spend any longer there than you had to, you promptly tossed a large duffle bag onto your bed and started stuffing it with clothes and any other necessities.

Zipping the duffle closed, you felt a light gust of cool air. Scanning your bedroom window assuming it was the source, you realize it’s open. You never open this window. In fact, it’s always locked. All of the hair on the top layer of your skin stands up to the extent it almost feels like tiny pinpricks. Flight mode is instantly activated; before you can even think, you grab the bag and run, practically tripping over your own feet out of the room.

Grappling with the door knob, the pure panic starts to set in. Just as you’re twisting the knob open, you hear a distant bang coming from another room in the apartment. You freeze at the realization:

I’m not alone.

You know when you’re watching a scary movie and yell at the tv, wondering why the one of the characters was so fucking stupid to do something?

Well, you did exactly that. What possessed you in that moment, you haven’t the faintest idea. But, with your heartbeat pounding in your ears so loudly that you thought your eardrums might rupture, you started to turn around to look.

What primitively catches your attention isn’t what you expected, but quickly makes your chest tighten. The fruit bowl on the kitchen counter that is normally overflowing with lucious, red delicious apples, now just has all apple cores.

The flashback of one being on left on the countertop after Bucky had left blazes in your mind. It suddenly makes sense. Bucky would never leave a mess and it wasn't long after that you saw someone outside your window.

Attempting to swallow the growing dryness in your throat, you continue to turn around. And that's when you see him for the first time. About fifteen feet away, stood an obviously immensely tall man. He wore thick, black shiny leather boots that gleamed lightly in the natural daylight within the apartment. Fitted black jeans with a loose, black hooded sweatshirt that failed to hide how muscular and broad his chest and shoulders were with the hood pulled up.

But two things stuck out the most about his appearance. First, was the tight, black leather gloves he wore on his hands that were currently clenched into rigid fists. The second, was the fact that you couldn't make out his face. All you could see was an elongated paleness, caverned by the blackness of the hood, and it seemed... sinister. He didn't move or make a sound. It was as if you would blink and he would be gone, like a cloud of smoke.

But if anyone was going to disappear, it was going to be you. So taking a chance, you ran. And you didn't stop running. Even with the faint vibration in your pocket alerting you to the new text notification on your phone, you kept going.

It wasn't until you got back to Hailee's place and frantically, out of breath explained to her, that you even remembered about the text message.

"Here," You toss the phone in pure detestation onto her bed, "I don't even want to fucking know what it says." You lean against the opposite wall of her bedroom, crossing your arms across your chest in an attempt to control the body shakes as you come down from the adrenaline.

Hailee watches you for a brief moment, still not having said much aside from asking if you were okay. Her expression was soft and sympathetic and yet had an dissenting undertone. You couldn't blame her, this all sounded absolutely insane.

Letting out a small, exasperated breath, Hailee sits on her knees from her previous crossed legged position and grabs your cell. As the screen comes to life, her teeth clench down reading whatever is on the screen.

“What?” The concern is evident in your voice as you pry away from the wall, though still holding onto yourself.

Hailee inhales deeply through her nostrils, faking a tightlipped smile, “it’s nothing,” her tone is flat. She’s lying. Clicking the sleep button on the side of the phone to make the screen go black, she makes her way off the bed, “hey, how about we head down to the cellphone store and get you a new phone and number?” She asks, trying to sound like her usual carefree self as she grabbed her crossbody bag.

“Hailee,” you uncross your arms and step in front of her, forcing her to make eye contact, “what is it?”

Searching your eyes, you can see that she is torn. She wants so badly to do the right thing, but isn’t sure what exactly that is in this situation. On one hand, she could just keep it to herself. Let the unknown and curiosity eat you alive from the inside out like it inevitably will. But only because she wants to protect you, shield you from anything that brings you the opposite of joy. Or, she can show you what you’re actually dealing with, and the two of you can come up with a plan and handle it together. Hailee decides on the latter.

Hesitating, her hand shakes slightly as she holds out the phone to you. It appears that now both of you will take this predicament more critically now. Grabbing the phone a tad more aggressively then you meant to, you unlock it and open the messages. But it's not often Hailee gets rendered quiet. Scrolling through the back to back texts, you understand why.

Taking your best friends advice, you immediately went to the cell phone store. She tagged along as you got a completely new phone and number, not transferring anything over, not wanting to take the risk. You didn't download any social media, deciding to take a much needed mental break for a bit. The only thing you did do, was take a few phone numbers that you needed out of your old phone, and even then you wrote them down on a piece of paper to manually add them into your contacts later.

Walking out of the store, you felt as if a weight had been lifted. Hailee locked arms with you, leading you around the corner to the nearest cafe to get iced coffee. It was her answer for everything. Bad day? Iced coffee. Need a pick me up? Iced coffee. Need to clear your head and just ramble about random shit for a bit? Iced coffee. Your best friend has an apparent stalker and we're hoping that changing phone numbers is the end all solution?! Obviously, iced coffee.

Sitting at a small table outside the cafe, enjoying the slight crispness in the fall air, you let out a huge, relieving sigh that makes your shoulders sink. You take the opportunity to add Bucky to your contacts and text him your new number. Although, you decide not to go into detail about your most recent encounter while he's still away on a mission.

Putting the phone down on the table and not have it incessantly go off with calls and texts, let's you feel as though you can finally breathe. "Thank you for coming with me, Hales, I really appreciate you."

Hailee is sucking the remnants of her drink through the straw as she looks up at you. She gives you a small, genuine side smile, "you're welcome," before smirking, "so I'm supposed to have a date tonight, with that guy Noah I've been seeing..." she leaves it open ended. "But, I should totally cancel after everythi-"

"No, please. Go out and have fun. You've been dealing with my shit enough," trying to make your words sound affirming, even with the lingering dread that you still felt.

That's one thing about Hailee. You never quite really have to twist her arm to do anything.

After showering and changing into your comfy jeans and oversized cropped sweater, it was hard not to feel the slightest tinge of jealousy watching Hailee do her finishing touches for date night in the mirror. Jealousy in the sense of missing Bucky and going out and having a carefree night, not in comparing yourself physically.

She swipes yet another layer of clear lip gloss on before fluffing her beach wave blonde hair. Turning to face you, her thick heels clack on the wooden floor as she starts adjusting her boobs in her sleek, dusty rose colored dress.

"What do you think?" Her hands glide down over her curves, "Dress is okay?"

"That dress is fire," and it is, she looks amazing. By the smile she's wearing, she's feeling it too, "too bad it's going to end up on Noah's floor ten minutes into your date." Hailee dramatically gasps, as if that's not true. It totally is.

You're both laughing until she abruptly stops, "I have to go!" She gives you a quick hug and starts scurrying towards the door, a bit awkwardly in the heels, "Bye! Love you! Lock the door!" As she goes to close the door behind her she yells back in, "don't read too much smut on your kindle while I'm gone!" and the door slams.

Shaking your head with a small laugh, you lock the door. Hailee just gave you the perfect idea of how to spend your night.

About an hour had gone by, you comfortably laid in Hailee's spare bed, a few chapters deep into your latest book. It was quiet, so when your phone vibrated on the bed next to you- you jumped slightly. Assuming it was Bucky finally having the chance to text you back, you pick it up fairly quickly. But the message you received isn't what you expected at all.

Before even unlocking the phone, you had a text alert from Unknown. There was nothing written, but all the way to the right of the alert, you could see a picture was included.

Promptly, you sat up in the bed and stared at the notification. That familiar wave of unease dispersed throughout your body as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over your head.

This phone number is only a few hours old, how the fuck did he get it already?

The notification banner and you were in a staredown. You had to know what the message was, but you were absolutely terrified at the same time. Your thumbs hover, occasionally twitching over the screen, until you pull the trigger and swipe up.

Us. Hailee...

Driving to your apartment, you broke nearly every single traffic law that there is. The entire time you tried calling Hailee’s phone back to back, just repeating the same mantra; please pick up. Please, please pick up. She never did.

“Hailee!!” You run through your apartment door, not having to mess with it for long as it was already unlocked. You had a feeling it would be. “Answer me!” You yell, breathlessly. The apartment is eerily dark and quiet.

Coming to a halt in the main living space, you whipped your head around looking for clues and try to listen for any signs of distress. But it was so difficult to hear anything over your own breathing and pulse drumming in your ears.

You knew where you had to go, the last picture of your friends dress laid out on your bedspread was the roadmap. The bedroom door was just barely closed over, a creepy orange glow lining it and trying to escape from underneath. Each step closer that you took, felt as if a large spider made entirely of ice was crawling down your spine.

Pushing the door open slightly with just a fingernail, you peered into the room. You knew this is exactly where this person wanted you. For what? There’s only one way to find out.

There didn’t seem to be anyone in the room, so you took a few small steps in. The glow was more prominent now, giving the room an uncanny romantic ambiance with numerous amount of white candles lit all along the dressers, night tables, and bookshelves.

Taking a broad step forward, your attention is now focused on the bed. Hailee's dress is no longer laid out like it had been in the picture. Instead, there are flower petals sprinkled across your comforter. The intriguing curiosity drew you even more into the room without you even realizing. Picking up one of the petals, you rub it between your fingers, feeling it's supple and delicate smoothness as you examine it more closely. In that moment you recognize it- the familiarity of it's dark appeal. They're black dahlia petals.

Some of the petals congregated in one particular area on the bed, revealing an elegant, black gift box about the size of a large book. Your lips part slightly as you pick up the box, captivated by it's alluring magnetism. Taking off the lid, your brows furrow slightly in confusion. It's a chain. A long, thick slip chain that looks like a necklace but almost long enough to be a leash.

As your finger smoothes over the cold indentations of the chain, you hear a creak come from the floor behind you. In a startled jump, you drop the box- a slight ringing sound deafens the scene even more from the chain hitting the floor. But that's not your concern. Because as you turn around, you see him.

Within arms reach, you are confronted with the person that's been behind all of this. He's even taller up close, broader. Dressed in all black attire, this time swapping the black hoodie for a black t-shirt and black leather jacket. And without the hood, you're able to see the elongated white face from earlier.

It's a Ghostface mask.

He stands as still as a statue, watching you intently, waiting. Your eyes persist in looking him over as your chest rises and falls deeply. When your gaze meets his face once again, his head creepily tilts ever so slightly to one side.

"What's the matter?" He speaks, his voice deep and low, "you look like you've seen a ghost," the tone almost mocking.

Squinting your eyes, you look at him again. And this time you really look at him. His body frame, the clothes, the familiarity of his voice. Your eyes widen at the realization.

"Bucky?" you gape, completely stupefied. Taking the first fearless step in what feels like months, you wrap your arms around him. He returns the sentiment and you feel safe, for the first time in what feels like forever. It suddenly dawns on you that he's not actually on a mission. And probably never was.

"What- What is this?" You ask, looking up at him, slightly pushing the mask up to reveal his stubbled chin and promiscuous grin.

"There’s just something so dark and exhilarating about an unknown man behind a mask that stalks and is obsessed with you. The anonymity of it..." He repeats back the words you said to him a few months ago watching the Scream movie.

The memory of you how you told him about this kink of yours curls around your mind. That this entire time, you were never in any kind of serious danger, he just brought it to life. Weeks and months of preparation went into this, here, tonight. You should have known all along that Bucky would never have been so nonchalant about you in any type of significant situation. You're safe. You always were and always will be.

The tiny icy footprints that had trailed up your spine were long gone, now replaced with a burning and tantalizing desire. You've missed him, thinking he was away while you were dealing with this on your own. But now he's here, fulfilling your deepest desires.

Looking up, Bucky's Pacific blue eyes are already gazing down into yours, a built up and unsatisfied hunger prominent. Moving up onto your tiptoes and grabbing him behind the neck, you bring down his head and capture his lips.

Your mouth parted his, gliding and massaging his tongue with your own. A low growl reverberated from within his throat with approval, and promise to make everything up to you tenfold. Bucky's intoxicating cypress scent fills your nostrils as your inhaled deeply, pressing your breasts up into his chest. Taking off the leather gloves and shrugging his jacket onto the floor, his hands started to wildly wander around your body, giving light squeezes on your hips before settling and interlacing gingerly in your hair.

That didn't last long, though. There was a sudden and hard tug from where Bucky held your hair, enough to pull the two of you apart. The aggressiveness of the gesture was unexpected, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't fucking love it. His eyes linger on your already swollen lips, now wearing a pursed, provocative grin. His hand releases the tight grip he had on your loose curls, watching the relief from the sting flash across your eyes. Bucky has always been tender, gentle and using your body as a place of worship-but tonight is different.

Grabbing the hem of your sweater, he maneuvers it up and off to join his growing pile of discarded clothes. Dropping to his knees with a loud thud, he undoes the button and zipper of your jeans, pulling them down and weaving his tongue along the freshly exposed skin. Hissing through your teeth, your hips instinctively press forward. He lets out a dark laugh, before grabbing the chain you dropped before. Standing back up, he takes your hand, "Come," he says, leading you towards the cornered edge of the mattress.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, his muscular body causes it to sink slightly. His free hand, still holding the chain, grips his own thigh before giving it a light pat, "Sit," he commanded, again keeping that firm edge in his voice that you weren't used to. You enthusiastically follow his orders, sitting delicately facing outward in just your matching ivory lace bra and panties. It's hard not to notice how you just fit. And how much you secretly love his significantly large frame pressed against your much more petite body in comparison to his.

The soft tip of his nose runs along the outside of your neck, his large hands coasting along your shoulders, down your arms, sides, before settling on your thighs. The calluses on his hands leaving a sensational trail of tingles and heat to disperse under your skin.

"Look," his head nods forward once to get your attention, and now you see the reason why he sat you here. In the corner of the bedroom, just a few feet away, is a full length standing mirror angled perfectly to reflect everything.

You see yourself, already flushed with arousal and breathing heavily as you make eye contact with Bucky in the mirror. His devious smile pins you in place as you watch his hands pry open your legs, entrancingly over his. They willingly spread open wide for him, your restless hips now squirming, aching for more. His fingertips trace small circles on your inner thigh.

"I want you to see your face as you fall apart, " he taunted, his voice sultry in your ear, still holding your gaze in the mirror. His middle finger skims across your already embarrassingly dampened panties, causing your back to press against his rigid chest.

There was a vague rattling sound, followed by Bucky placing the large opening of the looped chain over your head and around your neck, “Bucky, what are you doing-” you watch curiously in the mirror. Part of the chain dangles between your breasts, which he wraps around his hand once and slowly starts to pull, causing the loop around your neck to compress.

It’s a choker.

Your eyes go wide, nervousness rippling through you as you grasp his intentions, “Bucky, I don’t know-”

“Do you really think you have a choice?” he barked, pulling the Ghostface mask down back onto his face. Talking to you through the mirror, “I won’t hurt you. Trust me,” he whispers, breaking character for a moment to assure you’re safe.

You nod in response, your reflection visibly eases in the mirror as the necklace slackens around your throat. He lets the chain lax too, for now.

Large hands are back to kneading your thighs, a lone finger brushing between your legs when gravitating along the inside. It’s not long until the sensation has you starting to wriggle once again.

Cupping your sex, his hand gently moves up and down, keeping a firm, yet delicate and delicious pressure. Your greedy hips tilt forward, wanting more from his right hand, while the coolness of his left continues to lazily stroke over your skin. But when that icy touch quickly grabs and tears your underwear off in one jolt, you gasp at the tiny bite the ripping cloth left behind.

Now you’re left wide and exposed- to yourself, to Bucky, to the reflections of yourselves staring intensely, watching every movement. The warmth of his hand is back, leisurely gliding two fingers between your already achingly wet pussy. Swallowing hard, your breath hitches as you can not only feel, but see, yourself start to lose composure.

Bucky pulls the two fingers away, holding them up just to your mouth, "wet them for me," he instructs, his voice silk like satin. Taking the two fingers into your mouth, your tongue swirled rapidly around the digits, savoring the salty-sweetness of your arousal. Slowly pulling them back out, you see them shine with your saliva.

Something comes over you in that moment, call it gluttonous, but you pool some extra moisture into your mouth and spit onto the fingers. Just for good measure.

There's a murmured hum of approval in your ear as he spreads your folds, teasing your increasingly sensitive clit between his two fingers. And getting Bucky's praise will only enhance the entire night. Your legs quiver at the deliberate sluggish pace, letting out shaky breaths as the overwhelming throbbing demands more attention.

Finally, the pads of those fingers start to rub your bundle of nerves in unhurried circles. Gripping onto his thigh to steady yourself, your nails clutching his jeans, a whine escapes as your hips try to buck against his hand.

That dark laugh is in your ear again, "good girls don't come until I tell them too," Bucky breathes, overly indulging in how you respond to his touch. It feels like torture, in the best possible way. The combination of his words and caress... you have never felt this good. This wanted.

Your head falls back slightly against his shoulder in small disappointment, whimpering, knowing that he's going to make you beg. And you're getting desperate enough to do so.

The leisurely pace of his fingers picks up, causing your back to arch away from his chest as you start panting. Each swipe building pleasure, layer on top of agonizing layer. Finding yourself in the mirror again, you unapologetically watch as your body vigorously writhes against his hand, your moans spilling from your mouth more and more.

"How badly do you want to come, princess?" The Ghost breathed, his chest rising and falling heavily now, trying to fight off his own desire, evident from the hard protrusion you keep rolling your hips against.

"S-so bad... Please! Please," you pleaded, not caring how desperate it sounds. Adding some additional pressure, your hips stutter. Your breathing practically stops as your moans transform into one long, drawn out strangled whine as you come apart, "O-ooh...oh my god. Oh god!"

Not even fully coming down from the repeated waves, you hear, "God's not here," growled into your ear. In one sudden movement, Bucky stands up with you in his arms before tossing you onto the bed, "just me.” the low rumble emits from his chest. Ripping off the mask, he kneels on the bed and uses his left arm to support his weight. Using those same damned two fingers, he plunges them into your drenched pussy, siphoning a sound from your throat that’s unrecognizable.

“Again,” Bucky breathes, his eyes glazed over with a new kind of wickedness as they lock into yours, “Come for me again. I fucking love all the sounds you make,” With his palm face up, his fingers start pumping you from the inside, running over your g-spot in a come here motion.

Since there was no remission from your last orgasm, the tightness in your belly never fully went away. Watching Bucky, seeing him in the tight black t-shirt while his bicep flexes from working you, his slightly furrowed brow and his lips slightly parted in determination, you could feel it building up once again.

Feeling your walls contract around him, he grinned. He changes his hand motions to going in a frantic up and down movement, and if you know, you know. Your rasped whimpers became silent as you forgot how to breathe and your vision blurred. The build up came on so fast and so strong, the only sound in the room was your ever increasing wetness.

Your mouth dropped open into a silent O, not able to think not a single coherent thought, "Thaaat's it..." Bucky coaxed, "I want you to gush all over my fucking hand," and with his words, your body quivers as you completely shatter with a loud cry. "Goood girl. God, what a good fucking girl," he soothes. You winced slightly as he pulled out his fingers, collapsing back more into the bed as you try to rein in remembering how to breathe. Bucky sits back on his knees, and almost entirely up to his elbow is glistening with how hard you just came.

With a flat tongue, he presses it to his palm, and licks all the way up to the tip of his middle finger, "Perfect," Bucky hums in satisfaction to himself. Your throat goes dry at the sight, being the cherry on top of all the mouth breathing you've been doing. Am I fucking dreaming?

Pushing his jeans down to his knees, his thick, flushed cock rebounds out of his boxers. Bucky grabs you by the hips, pulling you down the bed before flipping you over onto all fours. Each of his hands grabs a fistfull of your ass, before slapping one side. You moan at the bite of the smack, feeling delusional from needing him inside you so badly. He rubs the reddened cheek before dropping a teeth grazed kiss on the sensitive skin.

There's a coolness between your legs, and you realize that it's your juices sliding down your thighs. Not needing any preparation, you feel the tip of Bucky's fat cock lining up to slide into your tight little slit. He rubs the head up and down, lubricating just enough to push himself in. As he started to sink into you, it took every bit of will you had not to collapse as you felt his slight struggle to get in.

"Fuck, you're tight," he sighs. But truth be told, he's just that big. As if he had a direct roadmap, he slides in effortlessly right to the hilt, poking the sweetest spot of all making you choke out a sob, "You can take it, can't you angel?" He breathes huskily, amusement draped around the words as he dragged his cock back maliciously slow, letting you feel the ridge of each vein, every delectable centimeter of his length.

You feel your eyes roll closed, enjoying the all consuming sensation. With one quick thrust all at once, Bucky simultaneously yanks on the chain of the forgotten choker forcing your eyes open with a loud cry to find him glaring at you in the mirror, "Look at me when I'm fucking you," he reprimanded, in a subdued yet stern voice.

He started to move in a merciless rhythm, keeping the chain taut in one of the hands that clenched your hips. Each thrust delivered not only a delectable deep nudge against your cervix, but a small slap of his balls to your achingly sensitive clit. The combination of internal and external stimulation has you singing your own personal explicit cry, almost on the verge of tears with the intensity.

It's almost cruel the way that he fucks you, like he's dismantling you piece by piece, mentally, physically, emotionally. Never have you been treated like such a prize possession and a cheap whore at the same time. Your walls flutter around his cock, swallowing him needing moremoremore. You're body's accepted that this pussy is Bucky's. It's meant for him. It was made for him.

In the reflection you can see Bucky wet his lips, his eyes darting between yours and your ass bouncing off of his snapping hips. He continues to murmur soft, filthy praises as he fucks another orgasm from you. The choker tensed as you came, making the edges of your vision blurry- your walls clenching so tightly, causing each stroke to become more intense than the next. After you completely shattered, the chain went slack once again.

Manhandling you one last time, Bucky lays back flat on the bed and positions you to straddle him. You shake your head in an almost delirious state, "I-I can't. Buck, I-" you whisper, thoroughly cock drunk, "I can't," you pleaded.

"Yes you can, angel," his hands glide over your sweat coated thighs, a lecherous expression on his face. You nod ever so slightly, because even as spent and exhausted as you feel, you want to see him come apart. You want to look down into his eyes as joins you in the fucked out bliss.

You grab the base of his cock, using it to align yourself before sliding back down on top of him. Bucky's eyes widen, watching intensely as your bodies joined one another. All the air releases out of his lungs at the sight of your greedy pussy sucking him all the way in- deeper, your thighs already trembling. His hands clench your hips as your they start to grind back and forth.

His ab muscles flex under your nail piercing grasp- that pressure once again starting to build. He's just so deep, you're still just so wet from coming 3 times in a row, and now his wide tip is nestled so perfectly against your cervix that each motion of your body feels like you're going to spontaneously combust and die. But there's no way that heaven could be better than this. Those painfully beautiful sapphire blue eyes filled with an rapacious hunger that only you can fulfill.

You're mouth opens in attempt to say his name like a prayer, or something as equally dirty, but all that comes out is a sputter of shuddered gasps. Bucky's unapologetically loud moans grow more frequent, turning into their own long, drawn out beautiful melody, "fuck," he whispers, "that's so good."

Leaning down, chest to chest, you capture his lips in yours- swallowing those gorgeous sounds. Bucky takes this opportunity to thrust his hips up, massaging your inner walls as you push back against him. The loud smacking of flesh borderline drown out the sounds of both your orgasms, but you could feel the vibration from deep within Bucky's throat through the kiss. Rope after rope, you could feel his warmth emptying inside of you.

The strokes became laguid as he maintained the kiss- Bucky's hands cupping your face gently, which was such a dichotomy compared to the way he fucked you tonight. You finally pull your lips apart, collapsing fully on top of his body. Laying in silence, all you can hear is each other's ragged breathing and the drumming of his heart in your ear against his chest.

"I am... never getting rid of that fucking mask," Bucky chuckles lightly.

"Just so you know," you prop your chin up on your palm, "there's 5 other movies in the franchise."

If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist.

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr

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[dollfacefantasy]

Just Like the Movies

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend dons the ghostface mask to let you live out a fantasy

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, cnc, praise/degradation, knife play, predator/prey dynamic (he chases her idk what to call it), dacryphilia, voyeurism mentions

word count: 3.4k

a/n: i wanted to write at least one spooky thing for halloween and i love scream so here you go. i'm working on requests i promise, i just wanted to get this out before october ends. as always, thank you for the comments and reblogs <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz ghostface photo used in the header is from @/oikizumi on pinterest!

An old scary movie plays on the television as you relax on the couch after a hard week. You had a soft blanket draped over you and a bowl of popcorn in your lap. The missing piece was your boyfriend. You were just waiting for him to come home and join you for your little makeshift marathon.

You casually watch the movie while lifting handfuls of popcorn to your mouth. You had seen this one before so it wasn’t scaring you, but it was entertaining enough to pass the time with until Leon returned to you.

It was getting to be that time of evening when he usually came marching through the door, tired from work but still with open arms for you to slide into. He hadn’t come home yet though. As you’re wondering where your lover could be, your phone begins to ring.

You sit up and grab it from the table in front of you.

No caller ID.

You raise your eyebrows at the strange nature of that. Assuming it’s a scam call though, you leave it be. However, the phone rings again. You actively decline the call this time. You place your phone down again, hoping that would be the end.

It wasn’t though because not even a minute later, your phone vibrates again.

You reach for the device and see a text message pop up on your lock screen.

‘Don’t ignore me, pretty girl.’

That piques your curiosity. When the phone rings again, you click the answer button and bring it to your ear.

“Hello?” you say.

“Finally, she answers the phone,” a smooth, predatory voice teases.

“Who is this?” you ask.

“Oh c’mon, you don’t wanna ruin the fun already, do you babydoll?” he purrs.

“Well, what do you want?” you ask. The cadence of the voice was familiar, but the actual sound of it, you couldn’t place. It didn’t sound like anyone you knew in real life.

“To talk to you. I guess you could say I’m kind of lonely,” he says with mock sadness.

“Aw, well I’m not, so bye,” you say and hang up the phone. As you begin to place that voice and the cadence behind it, Leon’s late arrival makes sense. You had disclosed this little fantasy to him recently. And it seemed like he had got the modulator to sound just like the movie for you.

Not even ten seconds go by before the phone rings again. An excited chill comes over you as you lift it and accept the call.

“Hello?”

“Why’d you hang up on me, angel? That’s not very nice of you,” he taunts, “You doing something better right now?”

“Mhm,” you hum.

“Yeah? What’s so important that you can’t spare a few moments of your precious time?”

“I’m about to watch some scary movies,” you say, a smile spreading on your face. You sit up on the couch more as you feel where this conversation is going.

“Scary movies? I like scary movies,” he says, “Tell me, do you have a favorite?”

“I like Scream. You ever seen that one?” you say teasingly.

“I’m familiar,” he says, “That one’s not really scary though. I bet I could give you more of a thrill.”

“Mm, maybe. But sadly for you, my boyfriend will be home soon.”

“Boyfriend? That’s a shame,” he says, his voice becoming a hint darker.

“I’m sure it is. Anyways, I should be going…” you trail off knowingly.

“C’mon, blondie can wait a few more minutes.”

“Blonde,” you repeat slowly, feigning fear, “How do you know he’s blonde?”

“I’ve been watching you for a while, baby. Had to make sure everything would be perfect tonight,” he says with a low laugh, “Let’s just say that we have plenty of time now.”

“Why are you doing this? Who are you?” you say, cranking up the fear in your voice. You stand up from the couch and walk to a window to see if you can spot him outside.

“That doesn’t matter, sweetheart. Plus, I thought girls liked the whole man of mystery thing,” he chuckles, “You’re honestly telling me this doesn’t turn you on?”

“It doesn’t!” you say defensively.

“Are you sure about that?” he breathes, “When I cut those slutty little shorts off you, I’m not gonna find a messy cunt crying for me to fill her?”

“No…” you say, your cheeks heating up while arousal pools in your belly.

“You don’t sound so sure,” he teases, “Y’know, I think I can see your nipples getting hard under that thin shirt all the way from here.”

You quickly step away from the window, a shiver shooting up your spine. You bite your lip. “Please don’t hurt me,” you whimper.

His cruel laugh crackles through the phone. “I wanna hear you cry like that when you’re cumming all over my cock.”

Every word tumbling from his lips stoked the flames of desire within you. Your veins were coursing with a primal need at this point.

“I’m gonna call the police,” you say. Your voice was breathy in what could be interpreted as terror, but in reality, it was pure lust.

“Do you think that would stop me?” he rasps into the phone, “Because, we both know I would get to you before the operator could even take your address. But let’s say you did get through. I can be quick, doll. Take what’s mine and have that tight pussy full of my cum with time to spare.”

You shift your thighs and look for the smallest semblance of friction as he lays this out to you.

“By the time any cop did get here, all they would find is a pathetic little mess, lying on the ground all fucked out and bred, a dumb smile on that pretty face.”

The tiniest whine escapes your throat from that mental image. You wonder if he heard it, but the throaty chuckle on the other end answers your question.

“You dirty fucking whore. You love this. You wanna be pinned down and used until your sweet mind is broken and completely cock drunk.”

“No, I don’t,” you say, trying to keep up the act of defiance even though your desire was palpable in your voice.

“Well, too bad. But I’ll be generous, little one. I’m telling you that I’m coming in now. A little head start if you’re smart,” he says, “You better not waste my fucking time. Give me a good chase, or I’m not gonna be nice when I catch you. Find out if your insides are as pretty as the outside.”

You hang up the phone. Your body was on fire with a mix of adrenaline and arousal. You scamper through the house into another room, wondering what to even start with. Your thoughts are cut off when you hear the back door slide open.

Your pulse thunders in your ears. You move quietly across the room you’re in, peering through the doorway back into the living room. You see him. That tall and fit body donned in a tight black t-shirt and pants. He wears black leather boots on his feet. A large hunting knife is strapped to his belt. His head is covered, and when he turns, your heart seizes at the sight of the ghostface mask.

He catches a glimpse of you through the cracked door and starts toward you. You zoom through the other door in the room, maneuvering quickly around furniture and stray clutter. Then, you loop back to the open back door. You can hear him clambering through the hall behind you. Primal fear courses through you, instinctually telling every cell in your body to run.

“Where do you think you’re going, sugar?” you hear the voice modulator crackle.

Moving through the sliding door, you dart across the backyard. The grass was wet against your feet since you didn’t have the time to grab a pair of shoes. You fumble with the gate, your hands shaking from the adrenaline coursing through you. You try to shut it behind you to delay him, but he’s already so close.

You continue sprinting into the woods behind your home. The area surrounding you was dark. It was cold out too. Your skin had broken out into goosebumps, your thin shirt and shorts not providing much warmth, and your bare feet only exacerbating the feeling.

There were trees everywhere, and it felt like there were things hiding within the dense woodland. The whole time you focused on not running into a tree, you could hear him behind you. His breathing was heavier, but it was clear he was exerting minimal effort.

You jump over overgrown roots and duck under stray branches. Despite running for a bit, you still weren’t too deep in the woods. You shoot a look behind you, trying to see if you were any closer to losing him than before. He’s just as close, and in the midst of your attempted glance, your foot catches on a rock. You cry out and tumble to the ground. Skin scrapes against the dirt and rocks beneath you.

He slows his pace to a simple walk, pulling the hunting knife from the sheath. The wide blade shimmers in the pale moonlight. He holds it up and drags a gloved fist over the silver, just like in the movies. Another, low laugh breaks through the speaker of the modulator.

“Too easy, princess,” he taunts, “Get up and keep running.”

Your eyes widen and blood rushes to the lower region of your body at the command. You stumble to your feet and stagger away. Your foot aches a little from the rock and the fall, but you continue in earnest.

He lets you go on for a while longer. Occasionally, he would intentionally fall behind, giving you the illusion that you could outrun him. But also filling you with the dread that you would be out in those woods alone.

Soon enough, he’s had enough of the chase. He speeds up and hooks his arms around your waist. He pulls you to the ground in a swift motion, whipping around your body so quickly that you could barely see it. He’s got one of his knees holding your dominant arm down while a hand holds the knife to your throat. You squirm and whimper under him, causing him to shake his head and make a noise of mock disappointment.

“Poor baby. You did all you could, didn’t you?” he coos menacingly, leaning down closer to your face, “Look at you. Out of breath, heart beating out of your chest. You tried so hard.”

He brings the knife up to your cheek and drags the tip across, not cutting you but letting you feel the cool metal on your soft skin. You whine and scrunch your face in discomfort, eliciting a cruel laugh from him. He drops the knife nearby and shakes his head.

“Not a fan of knives, sweet thing? Too scary?”

Next, you try recoiling from his touch, but he’s caging your body on the ground. The damp dirt presses against your back and smears on his clothing as he wrestles with you to keep you in place. Again, you can see how little effort it takes for him to keep you down. The display of strength has your heart beating harder with lust.

“Keep fighting me, little one. It’s my favorite part,” he breathes before shifting on top of you and roughly flipping you over.

Now, squirming only rubs your face into the soil beneath you. In this position, you can feel his hard cock against your ass. He reaches over for the knife again and brings it to the base of your spine. He uses his knee to hold down your arm again, so he can pull your skimpy top taut and slice through it with ease.

He handles you like a ragdoll and yanks it off. The knife falls to the ground again as he reaches around your body with both gloved hands to knead your breasts. You whimper at the harsh squeezes and rolls of his fingers. His face is right next to your head, and you can hear his ragged breathing under the mask.

He pinches and teases your nipples, your noises now becoming obviously pleasurable. A hand slides into your hair and grips the roots as he shoves your face to the ground. Your cheek is smooshed on the cool surface, and your lips part as your own breathing picks up. Your hips are still squirming, but now only to try and feel some friction with his dick.

“There we go. Such a little slut. Didn’t take much for you to give in. You know this is where you belong. Beneath me, stuffed full of my cock,” he groans.

His hands glide down your body, pulling your hips into place. He tugs your shorts and panties down to your knees, humming in satisfaction when he sees your dripping cunt. Two leather-covered fingers slide through your slick. They circle your puffy clit, drawing mewls from your throat. The fingers then dip inside you and pump in and out a few times. Your body shudders at the sensation.

“So fucking wet. You like this even more than I thought. So sick baby. My twisted little doll,” he teases.

He plants his free hand on the back of your neck and digs his fingers into the side of your throat. His other hand continues working your aching pussy, adding in another finger to your needy hole. You choke out a few moans as your breathing becomes more like panting.

“All this for just my fingers? Can’t imagine how you’re gonna cry on my cock. Maybe scream for me a few times,” he purrs.

After a bit more, he pulls his fingers out of your pussy, shushing you when you whine in protest. You hear the sound of a zipper and the rustle of fabric being adjusted. It isn’t long before you feel the heat of his cock prodding your entrance. You shift your hips back, taking the tip in.

He grunts and his breath hitches as you clamp down on the sensitive head. Once he regains his composure, he slams his hips forward, sheathing himself fully inside you with one thrust. You cry out and claw the dirt beneath you.

“You wanna be an impatient little bitch, I’m not gonna be gentle with you. If you’re so fucking needy that you can’t wait two seconds for my dick, I’ll treat you like the cockslut you are, sweetheart,” he says before beginning to rock his hips back and forth.

He finds a rhythm with ease. One of his hands gives your ass a few firm smacks while his other hand returns to your head to pull on your hair. The noise of your skin connecting sounds through the woods along with your whining. His grip on your hair is like a vise. The mild sting of the pull mixed with the rush of pleasure from him drilling into you brings some tears to your eyes.

“That’s right, fucking take it. This is what you were made for, sweet girl. Your body knows it,” he grunts as your walls flutter around him.

He smacks your ass again while getting more erratic with his thrusts. The hand in your hair returns to your hip to give him more leverage. His digits dig into your skin to the point of potential bruises. You whimper and moan, your head becoming cloudy while he stretches you out.

His quiet moans hit your ears and make your stomach erupt with butterflies. You tighten around his shaft. You were starting to work up a sweat despite the cool temperature of the air around you. You shudder and twitch, only causing him to hold you tighter.

Your back arches as more sinful noises pour from your lips. A particular thrust snaps something in you and breaks the dam that was holding in your tears. It felt like he was stroking deeper than ever before, and you just couldn’t hold it in. Warm drops stream from your eyes while your whimpering grows louder and less controlled.

“Are you crying, little love?” he coos, but you can hear the smirk in his voice. He starts rubbing your back with even, soothing strokes without stopping his thrusts, “Cry it out, sweetheart. It just feels too good, doesn’t it?”

“Y-yeah,” you whimper with a weak nod.

“Yes it does. I know, baby,” he says condescendingly. His gloved hand continues caressing your back while he snaps in and out. You grow louder still, whining and moaning through tears.

“Someone’s gonna hear you, doll,” he teases. Your cheeks warm with embarrassment, but you’re past the point of being able to control your volume. “You’d probably get off on that though, you little freak.”

“N-no,” you stutter out in an attempt to defend yourself, but you’re cut off by your own gasps of pleasure.

“No? You wouldn’t cum on the spot if someone saw you like this? Taking my cock like the good little whore you are. Crying cause it’s just too much for you.”

You shake your head as best you can while being pressed against the ground. Your pussy clenches around him though from the description alone.

“Sure,” he chuckles before grunting, “Someone could be watching right now. It’s so fucking dark out here you wouldn’t even know.”

You can’t hide the thrill that gives you. A loud cry tears through you and your hips squirm within his grasp, trying to get you to that peak.

“Yeah, I know you like that,” he growls, leaning down and encasing you with his arms. The new angle lets him piston himself even deeper within you.

He keeps grinding himself into you as you both feel the coils of release getting closer to snapping. One of his arms snakes around your head, his bicep curling around your neck. The plastic front of the ghostface mask presses into the side of your head. He’s grunting and moaning into your ear, bringing you right to the edge.

“I feel it coming, honey. Let it go. Cream on my cock, baby girl. Give it all to me,” he mumbles.

With no reason to hold back, you let your release explode. You writhe in his hold, gasping and crying as euphoria floods your being. You bite your lip and tilt your head back to nuzzle and sloppily kiss at the mask.

He’s not far behind you. A few thrusts later, he’s draining himself in you, filling your insides with hot and sticky cum. His hips sputter and the mask becomes misaligned on his head as the two of you press against each other.

You’re both panting in the end. Leon pulls out and rolls off of you, landing on the ground next to you. You don’t move from your place in the dirt and just look over at him. He tugs off the mask and drops it near the knife. For the first time tonight, you see his charming smile and sweet eyes, a sharp contrast to the performance he just put on. He leans over and gives you a soft kiss as he adjusts the rest of his clothing.

You still don’t move from your position. He sits up and rubs your back again. His hands massage the muscles there for a moment before trailing down your leg. He gently lifts your foot and kisses your ankle.

“Your foot ok, baby?” he asks while rubbing your thigh. Even after all that, he hadn’t forgotten your fall earlier.

“Mhm,” you hum with a nod.

“Ok, good,” he says. 

He starts to help you roll over so you can get up. He smiles at you, brushing some dirt off your cheek.

“Let’s get you home so we can shower,” he says and helps you pull your shorts back on as you sit up. He kisses your temple a few times and strokes your hair, “Then we can cuddle and watch some scary movies.”

That makes you crack a smile, and you kiss his lips.

“Let’s get home quick. It’s cold out here, and I don’t have a shirt anymore thanks to you,” you tease.

You rise to your feet and lean on him for support. He picks up the knife and mask as well as the scrap of cloth that was once your top. He offers it to you with a sheepish smile. You roll your eyes and shake your head.

“Guess, you’ll just have to stay close then,” he says and tucks you under his arm. He kisses the crown of your head before you two start walking back through the woods to your home together.

[toast-on-dandelioms]

Hello, I really a fans of your work and always waiting for the updates. I have a question, what happen if Y/n just ignore the batfam as Y/n also turn to superfam becoming their family. It also assuming Alfred A-Okay with it. Oh, also Y/n might be have relationship with one of the superboys and she love to cuddle with the lover. Well, that's just my wild imagination thinking about.

Oh well, I hope you have great days.❤️😘

Thank you for liking my work! If you're asking for part 4, it will come out soon and probably by the end of next week!

Well, I don't think Alfred would be totally a-okay with this and after a bit he would act to 'fix' the situation.

He wants you to stay at the Manor and be appreciated too by the Batfam even though they don't even know you exist.

He has tried before, talking about you to Bruce and the others but they always dismissed him with the excuse of being busy or forgetting about you the next day.

And seeing you giving up on being with your real family and finding love in another family that actually accepts you and he can't accept that.

You're supposed to be with him as the rest of the Waynes not with some alien family.

He would act like he supports you whenever you come to visit him since you mostly live with the Kents nowadays and come to the Manor to grab the things you needed since you were moving your stuff from the Manor to the Kents house.

After a while you start to come home, to come back to him even less before you just visit him maybe once a month before it turns into no more visiting him since you're busy with school, dance classes and the vigilante role you still have.

And Alfred hates it so he decides that he can't stand to watch his boys obsess over your vigilante persona when they can't even bother to notice you weren't living in the Manor anymore.

So he decides to call a family meeting without your knowledge and explains everything, who you were behind the mask and how dissapointed and ashamed that the people he raised didn't even acknowledge that you existed.

Their reaction, which were mostly of confusion before realisation bothered him but he stayed silent and used their reaction to manipulate them, make them think you weren't in the right place with the Kent family.

And after a week from that meeting, you started to receive texts from all the batfam and also kept seeing them everywhere, with Bruce at school or when you were patrolling the city.

He would always try to talk to you, which you ignored or gave him the finger while swinging away, preferring to not engage in his tries to connect with you.

Plus he would show up at your dance recitals when you never said anything to Alfred about them and he would always be right in first row with a smug smile since he knew you couldn't do anything.

Plus you already knew they knew who you were behind the mask, they said your name when you had your mask on so many times you wanted to punch their faces.

You had to skip a few days of school because Tim and Damian started to show up at your same highschool and sitting next to you in class, to which no one would say anything and it frustrated you since highschool was one of your safe places but not anymore.

You tried to ignore Dick and Jason's attempts at stalking you, not because it was noticeable since you never saw them but the spider sense made you aware you were being watched and after a bit you were able to notice them following you.

Yes you did feel proud since you didn't have any detective training like the others but still knew who was following just by using the things around you.

You vented your frustrations with Clark and Conner and they did help by letting you skip school and everything but you had to go back to school or it would affect your attendance and damage your reputation and curriculum for future colleges applications.

But one fateful day, you went to a mission with Conner and Clark since they needed a third person but couldn't bring Jon since he was busy with school, so you went in his place.

During the mission you got ambushed, Conner and Clark were at disadvantage since the attackers (not sure on the term, the people that attacks) somehow had kryptonite weapons.

Plus you were also fighting, using the tasers and also the objects around you like rocks or trees.

Yes, you did throw a tree at a group of them and you also got Clark telling you not to do it again. Did you listen though? No.

As you were fighting you suddenly got stung by something in the leg, and when you touched the spot where it hurt you saw a small dart there.

You opened your mouth to call for Clark or Conner but someone covered your mouth and held you as you fainted while Clark and Conner had to flee since the attackers were too strong with the kryptonite.

The last thing you saw was the smiling face of Dick before completely giving in the drug you got injected in your body, not hearing them fight about who was gonna carry you in the batmobile.

[dizscreams]

Hii hii can I request a Jack Champion × actress reader where they react on some edits Abt the two of them in an interview and then one ship edit Abt them came out thank you so much

++ I luv your writing so much some times I go overboard by liking all of them sorry Abt that Have a great day/night

ur so sweet anon ty :( <3 I hope I understood this right 😭

Mesmerized — Jack Champion ★

PAIRING: Jack Champion x gn!reader

TAGS: @beary-rambles @ashlesys-blog @wekiamo @wenvierismycomfort @aesthetixhoe @mbankfav @aqellano @dizzyscreams @c8rdigan @teyamsgirll @evanpeterswifeyy868

A/N: he’s so bf like he’s literallyy my bf?! I love my bf!! bf!! he’s so this song!!

The producers for the interview you were doing didn’t tell you what the interview would be about. Both you and Jack just assumed it was a normal interview until you had to do the intro for the video. ‘Action!’

You wave, “Hi I’m y/n l/n!” Jack follows you and waves as well, “And I’m Jack Champion.” You both share a smile before quickly looking back at the camera, “And today we are going to be reacting to edits of ourselves.” Jacks eyes widen a bit before nodding slightly, “Lets do it.” “Lets do it,” you repeat.

Someone gives you a phone and tells you all you need to do is scroll and give commentary. “Jack, do you ever look at edits of yourself?” You ask him before clicking on the first video, you pause it before it starts to hear Jacks answer. “Uhh sometimes,” he laughs, “When I’m bored, or they’ll randomly appear on my for you page. What about you?” You smile a bit, “Same here. I also get tagged in a lot of them.” “Oohh yeah me too.”

“Shall we start?” You ask shaking the phone a little.

“We shall,” Jack responds with finger guns. You chuckle and start the first video, it’s an edit of Jack. It was of his Scream 6 character, Ethan Landry. Jack was blushing slightly when you had looked over at him. You giggled when the video ended, “Soo what’d you think?” He giggled with you, “People are really talented. I will say though I wasn’t expecting so many people to love Ethan. Especially because of.. the movie,” he said slowly.

You hum, “The movies been out a while I think you can say it.” He looks at you and then back at the camera, “I didn’t expect many people to love my character in Scream 6 because he’s a psychopathic murderer who chases people in a Ghostface mask,” He says in an accent and claps his hands together. You cover your mouth with your hand as you laugh. “Alright let’s move on, next!” Jack says smiling.

“Okay, here you can take the phone this time,” you tell him handing the phone to him. He takes it and scrolls down to the next edit, “I think it’s of you,” he whisper yells. You recognize the clip used as one in an interview you did only about a week ago. Jack looked at the video and then looked back at you while grinning. He seemed to be enjoying this a little too much, but you didn’t mind.

“Aw I liked that one,” you spoke up first.

“Me too,” Jack says as he stared at you. He liked the outfit you chose to wear today, he always admired your sense of style. He also liked the way you did your hair, it framed your face nicely. “Jack?” He cleared his throat, “Yeah? What?” You let out a confused laugh, “Were you listening?” His face turned red at the question, “uhhh-” You shake your head with a smile, “It’s okay, next edit!” You stick out your hand, signaling for him to give you the phone and he just looks at it.

You shake your hand and nod towards the phone a bit trying to be more clear and he tilts his head. You look at him and he looks like a lost puppy with his big brown eyes boring into yours. You smile a bit and lower your voice, “The phone, Jack.” “OH! Right yeah here,” he stumbles over his words as he hands you the phone. The light pink blush dusting his cheeks once again making him look even cuter than before.

“Okay and here we go,” you mutter. The video plays and at first it’s clips of Jack, you can recognize where some of the clips are from. A lot of them are from Avatar interviews, which makes sense. But then there’s clips of you and that causes your eyebrows to knit together slightly. Just a friendly edit, you presumed, but at the end of the video there’s a clip of you and Jack together.

It’s a clip from a little behind the scenes of Scream 6. The small moment was of Jack putting his arm around you while you were both in the backseat of a bus going to set that day. You smiled at the memory and the video came to an end, “That was cute.” He nodded in agreement, he had the same stupid smile on his face, “Yeah.” You took a peak at the comments, all of them were ship comments.

“They’d be so cute together!”

“Are we sure they aren’t dating?”

“The way they look at each other 🥹”

“I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE”

“There’s no way they aren’t dating”

Your smile got bigger and you handed Jack the phone with a quiet, “Your turn.”

The interview went on for a couple more minutes until they were satisfied with the length that the video would be. Then, it was time for the outro. “I’m y/n l/n,” Jack said and you followed his lead, “And I’m Jack Champion.”

“And you’re watching Disney Channel!”

“That’s not it, Jack-“

“And you’re watching Buzzfeed Celeb!”

“There you go. Thank you so much for watching..”

“And make sure to leave a like for more content like this,” he said finishing your sentence in a British accent.

“Cut! That was great, guys.”

You looked at Jack only to find him already looking at you, “You wanna go get lunch?” He asked already standing. “Of course.” You guys made your way out of the filming room and he made sure nobody was looking before he grabbed your hand, giving it a kiss,

“You don’t know how hard it was for me to stay quiet about our relationship. You looked so good, I just wanted to brag about how you were mine the whole time,” he said while pulling you in for a hug. You giggling and wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a quick kiss, “We’ll tell them soon, babe.”

[sunlitmcgee]

Okay so. Before I have to pass out and go to bed because work tomorrow. Rapid fire, very surface level, rambly and nonsense messy thoughts on the Lords in Blacks' humanoid forms.

Wiggly looks like a prom king! He rules on high in The Black and White, so it makes sense that even in such a "childish" form he makes it clear he's the leader. He's wearing a visual that the 3 kids will see as someone in a place of authority over them, yes, but he's specifically someone within their social "class" as it were: aka a fellow student. He demands their authority and respect, but oh, they're all fwendy-wends here, so they don't need to be so formal!

(also he has a lil' plushie mini-him for a backpack and it's making me Insane <3)

Nibbly, meanwhile, is a lil' pinkie girlypop. I don't know a lot of his lore or personality other than he hungry and has a connection to pigs, but just visually speaking, that basic info is conveyed very well through this outfit. The visor hat covers his eyes so you focus on his mouth, which is always all smile, all teeth, gums pulled back so you train on it as his most defining feature. If I had to guess the Lords' ages off of this scene along I would probably assume Nibbly is the youngest one, given how cutsie this outfit is tbh. Very "child who just got dressed up for sunday church by their parents" core but maybe I'm just rambling :")

Blinky is a grundy Daphene from Scooby Doo <3 he has such a tiny little voice and such a big baggy hoodie that has the hood pulled up so his whole face becomes an eye. I love the soft fur to represent his plushie's belly and the long hair. The glasses are also very fun. I wouldn't be too shocked if the hoodie and glasses are merch you find at Watcher world <3

As always, Tinky is a little fucked up little scraggly little fucko. He looks like a Danganronpa reject and I love it very much! I can't really say how much I feel this outfit matches his character, because well. Tinky's already Weird even among the lords, what with his Smelly Goatman Time Fuckery thing that makes it hard to link him to a singular theme. But he just looks so Wild and Unkempt that I can't like? see any reason the design DOESN'T fit him. if that makes sense?

Apparently Pokey is the guy that did the hivemind in Guy who didn't like musicals! With that knowledge, damn of course his ass looks like he waddled out of a ren fair's costume district! His mask, his hat, his face paint. Yep! that's a guy who made freaky hivemind space goop that makes people sing alrighty!!

anyway ^_^ i love these fucked up little guys

[sillysowa]

Ok I have a request :) could maybe guess who this is but AHDBSH

The fem reader is a villain while Hobie is the “hero”(not rlly but I forgot what it’s called) that’s been tracking down the reader. But, during the day the both live their normal lives, the readers day job being a barista at the local Cafe. Of course during the night her identity is hidden so she isn’t recognized during the day, which leads to the one morning when Hobie goes to the local coffee shop to order a drink and unknowingly ordering it from his masked nemesis.

What’d ya think? <3

I LOVE your brain anon! Sorry for the wait and if it seems rushed!

BEHIND THE MASK

pairing : hobie brown x fem!prowler!reader

genre : fluff, slightly suggestive

word count : 3k

warnings : violence

authors note : reader is the prowler but i have incredibly minimal knowledge on the prowler lol

synopsis : hobie has a date with a cute barista who just so happens to be the prowler

—

“And what exactly do you think you’re doin?”

Spiderpunk’s agonizing voice cuts through the silence of the night and you freeze in your tracks. You knew he’d find you tonight—always chasing after you like a moth to a flame, or a fly to a spiders web.

He drops down from the wall, thrusting his hands into his pockets and clicking his tongue, his loud boots slapping against the ground behind you,

“What’ya got in that bag of yours? Up to something you shouldn’t be?” He questions, coming right up behind you and whispering next to your ear. You turn around, your hands up as you look at him through your mask,

“Bold of you to assume i’ve done anything, I could just be out for a midnight stroll.” You shrug slyly, toying with him. You know just as well as he does that he could have tried to take you down by now, he’s clearly just wanted a little foreplay as usual.

“Oh, is it now? You’ve got this guilty air about you.” He asks, completely prepared for any attack that you might have up your sleeve, “You really want me to believe a dirty little liar like you, hm?” As he provokes you, his gloved hands reach up to your face only to get smacked away, but he only smiles harder—he expected it. A scoff can be heard from under your mask,

“Miss me, Spiderpunk? You seem awfully excited.” You sneer, voice muffled a deeper more menacing tone. His animated mask portrays his every expression, a squinty smirk plastered on his face,

“How’d you know?” He smirks, coming closer. You flex your fingers, claws baring menacingly before you rip a smoke bomb off your belt and slam it down, making Spiderpunk stumble back before you lunge at him through the cloud. His senses go wild, and he web shoots to the wall, swinging around and pulling his guitar out while you’re down. Your momentum landing you on your knees after he dodged, and you can’t react fast enough for his attack. He’s got his guitar above his head before he slams it down on your back,

“Ah!—Fuck me!” You grumble, rolling over and jumping up, shaking your head with your hands in front of you defensively.

“Only if you ask nicely, gorgeous,” He’s got his guitar out on display as if it’s a sword, making you scoff,

“In your dreams.” Your crack your neck and lunge at him, grunting and swinging wherever you can reach from your stance. You’d never admit it, but his height creeped you out and excited you all at once. Never in a million years would you get with a person like Spiderpunk—a loud, obnoxious, wannabe ‘hero’—but the fact that he towered over you like he did made you nervous in the best way possible. You tried to ignore the feelings deep in your stomach and focus on the way that made you feel about your fighting, afraid that he could overpower you if you let your guard down even slightly—which you did. He had used his fucking guitar pick—the small object somehow slicing your arm. You gasped and he hurriedly backed up, nearly tripping over his feet. At first he was dodging your punches well until you threw a right hook in, your knuckles meeting his jaw with as much force as you could muster,

He had no time to react as he stumbled down. You kicked him across the face and pinned his hands down under your shoes. You knew you had to act fast and get the hell away from him,

“Couldn’t have wined and dined me first?” He quips, his wrists pinned beside his head and his legs spread under you. It’s quite a sight—the city’s hero sprawled out under you like this at your mercy. You shake the thoughts out of your head,

“Catch you later, Spiderpunk.” You rasp, reaching to your belt and popping the cap off a homemade bomb. His eyes triple in size as you throw it, your boot shoving his face down before you flee. He scrambles and slings away before the bomb explodes and the walls surrounding it crumble.

He watches from across the street as the damage ensues, cursing to himself when sees the faint glow of your suit as you disappear into the night. You were such a pain in his ass—but couldn’t keep away.

—

—?” You yell out the name of an order, setting a drink and pastry down. You smile at the customer who walks up and thanks you, giving them a quick smile before returning to the register, swapping out with your coworker,

“Thanks again, Y/N.” They sigh. This isn’t typical behavior from your coworker, they’re typically very hard working but they told you a chunk of their apartment complex was blown up last night. Of course, you had to sympathize with them and help make their shift a little easier—it’s the least you could do after being the unknown cause of their distress.

“Yeah don’t worry about it.” You wipe off your uniform and put on a smile for the customers of the small café you work at. It had been an exhausting shift—only 30 minutes in and it already felt like hell. You looked up ready to give your best customer service voice when your words caught in your throat…

The man in front of you was absolutely breath taking. He had these high cheekbones and pretty eyes, full lips with a ring to compliment them, perfectly styled hair and jewelry all over—god his fashion too. He had this punk rock thing going on, and he was absolutely killing it. Even his body language was attractive, the way his hands were on either side of the table, leaning over slightly to reach your level,

“Mornin’.” He starts, his deep voice only spurring on your attraction towards him, “Could I just get a…” He looks up, biting the inside of his cheek before sighing, “Having a hard time making a choice—wide selection you’ve got. What do you recommend?” He asks with a curious expression, bending down close to hear you over the machinery, clanging dishes, and customer chatter.

You’re stunned, not expecting you’d have to think. After a little stuttering, you can finally think,

“W-Well we have this Persian tea. It’s a black tea base with cardamom and rose petals?” You suggest, your face heating up when he smiles because of course he has the lost beautiful smile you’ve ever seen, “It’s my favorite.” You add, voice coming out oddly quiet and now you’re incredibly embarrassed for reasons you can’t name,

“Sounds perfect, gorgeous.” He eccentrically squints his eyes and shakes his head as he speaks, half lidded eyes locking with yours again.

“And the name for your order?” You ask, tapping in the details on the screen before making eye contact with him,

“Hobie.” And of course, there’s something about the way he says his name that has you melting, but you desperately try to ignore it and pull yourself together. He whips out his wallet and hands you a large bill, your fingers slipping against his as you take it into your hand. You ring him up and gather his change, which he adamantly refuses to take,

“Keep it.” The stunning man winks, walking away and waiting in the line of others who have ordered. For a moment, you stand there completely appalled. When you turn to look at your coworker she’s already staring at you,

“…Oh my god?” She mouths, her hand over her mouth, “You better go make his drink and write your number on his cup, girl—move over i’ve got the register.” She laughs in disbelief, just as flustered as you,

“Thank you, thank you.” You hurriedly giggle, feeling guilty almost at her eagerness before moving out of her way and fumbling around, steeping his tea immediately. You were extra meticulous when crafting his order, wanting it to be just perfect. You caught glimpses of the rockstar-like man over the counter a few times, and almost every time he was already looking at you. You had to bite your lip to fight back the smile that tugged at your lips. When you poured his tea in a cup and clicked the cap on, you pulled out your sharpie and wrote his name messily, scribbling your number under it. With a cheeky smile you set the cup down,

“Hobie?” You call out like you have no idea who he is despite holding eye contact with him. He walks over, pulling a hand out of his pockets and wrapping his long fingers around the cup,

“Thank you, doll.” He rasped, scanning you over one last time when suddenly he squints,

“Y’alright? Doesn’t look like just a little scratch.” He asks you with his eyebrows furrowed, pointing low and squinting in concern. You’re just as confused as he is for a moment, looking down with your heart stopping as you realize it’s the cut from when Spiderpunk sliced you with his guitar pick, the memories of last night flooding into your brain and causing a panic in your nerves, your adrenaline pumping in a flash,

“Oh this? I got this from a clumsy accident the other day, it’s really no biggie.” You brush it off, covering the cut with your hand and cursing internally. You want to hide and never show your face again, the worst possible outcomes clouding your thoughts. He doesn’t seem concerned about your response, taking it for the truth,

“You better be more careful then, yeah?” He playfully chastises, turning to leave, “See y’round, pretty.” And with that, he walks out of the café, humming in delight at the flavors in your favorite drink. He’s almost done with his drink when he finally notices your number on the cup, laughing to himself and freezing in his tracks.

—

You got a call that night after your shift—you knew you would. When you picked up the phone and his deep voice was on the other end you just about melted into your bed.

“Hey, Hobie.”

“Hello, lovely—never got your name.” He mutters on the other end, background shuffling and movements loud enough to reach your ears. He sounds like he’s flipping switches and plugging stuff in,

“It’s, Y/N.” You chirp. Hobie feels a smile take over his face as he learns your name, repeating it a couple times,

“Such a pretty name you’ve got.” He coo’s his voice low and sultry. You smile widely, stupidly giddy over this

stranger,

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” He says smugly. On the other side of the phone you can faintly hear what sounds like a guitar, an electric guitar, “How about we go out sometime, yeah? When can I see you?” He asks, his voice charismatic.

You think, caught between wanting to see him tomorrow and wanting to be careful about who sees you that day. Tomorrow you had shady plans, and you didn’t want to get him roped into it, “Hm…it sounds weird but can I see you at nine?” You ask with a questioning tilt in your voice, “I understand it’s late but—“

“No worries, hun, works f’me.” He insists, causing you to sigh in relief.

“Okay great! thank you, Hobie.” You smile, fidgeting with your clothes anxiously. He hums and you feel your heart race,

“See you then, Y/N.”

—

Tonight would be the craziest heist of your life if you could pull it off. Keyword, if.

You didn’t know, but Spiderpunk had been following you the entire night. He had to keep a close watch on you after that stunt you pulled last time. You had somehow managed to outsmart him and he couldn’t let it happen again. You were currently in an alleyway, your pace fast and your head down—you honestly couldn’t look more suspicious as you walked towards the bank.

“Don’t think so.” He mutters to himself, slinging down and following you stealthily. He crept along the walls, keeping a watchful eye on you as you literally sawed open the wall, following close behind.

You on the other hand had a lot of tasks you were juggling all at once—you were texting Hobie telling him you’d see him in 15 minutes, sawing the building open, and watching your back simultaneously.

Spiderpunk, who couldn’t yet see you well enough to notice you were texting with your other hand, jumped when his phone vibrated with a notification. He pulled it out and quickly checked it, his heart racing at your name lighting up his screen. He just had to take you down to make it to the date on time—easy peasy.

He crept into the bank, catching a glimpse of you breaking into all their stashes and safes, literally stuffing cash into your bag. You look rushed and panicked, not as tactful as your usual self. He find it entertaining and comical decided to mess with you a little,

“In a hurry?” That low and taunting voice makes your skin crawl, whipping your head around, fingering tightening on your bag. Of course he was here, how could you have missed him? Or more importantly, how could he have not missed you? You knew it was a shot in the dark to just assume he wouldn’t find you this night as he always does—you bet he has some kind of affinity for you. A gravely sigh tumbles from your lips, shaking your head and slinging your bag over your shoulder,

“Look—I can’t fool around with you tonight, let’s skip the small talk.” You grunt, clicking your claws into readied fists, staring him down with precision. Spiderpunk liked fighting you when you were playful, but there was something about fighting you when you were annoyed that really excited him,

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” He teases with a low whistle, webbing towards you feet first. You dodge, grunting and lunging at him, both of you rolling until he’s got you under him, attempting to restrain you. You bring your knees up and kick him off of you, jumping up and circling him. He stares you down for a while, that messy painted mask squinty-eyed,

“Come on.” He sneers, beckoning you with his two, very long, middle fingers suggestively. You laugh at this, lunging at him in a series of calculated movements. He fights you off, throwing out quips and sly remarks to fire you up. You swing at him, your claws out, and he struggles against you when you attempt to stab him with them, pushing your wrists against the wall and grunting through the struggle. You’re shaking under him, hissing and squirming in an attempt to free yourself when he webs you to the wall.

“Fuck! God—“ You groan, frustrated and beyond pissed at what this means for you. Hobie’s face flashes in your brain and you cringe at the idea of standing him up like this,

“Please! Please just let me go this time…” You grunt, the webs holding you down like a barricade as he pulls your bag off you, spilling the contents out onto the floor—your phone, your outfit for the date, and all the money scattered across the cool tile,

“What’s with the dress? Got a date tonight?” He hums, picking up the fancy garment before dropping it back in place when you just scoff. Hobie reaches down to gather up the money when he notices the time on your phone, straightening up and pulling his own phone out,

“Shit—it’s that time already?” You watch as he hurriedly texts someone, his thumbs dancing across the screen. You slump against the wall as much as you can being restrained, sighing in pure frustration when your phone buzzes.

You both freeze—you because you’re deathly embarrassed and Hobie because his heart drops into his stomach. Directly after he sent a text to Y/N, your phone lit up. He looks at you, trying to decode your body language as he bends down and picks up your phone, confirming his suspicions.

Sure enough, there’s a text from him, or ‘Hobie,’ right in the middle of your lock screen. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, laughing to himself with his shoulders shaking in tandem.

You on the other hand are completely and utterly unaware of what just happened, still stuck to the wall and helplessly watching the scene in front of you. He stuff his and your phone into his pocket, muttering something to himself that you can’t quite make out before he walks towards you, the soles of his boots echoing in the dark empty bank,

“What the—why did you take my phone? What are you-“ Your rambles are cut short as his gloved hands come up to your mask, removing it despite your protests. After tossing it to the ground, he simply takes it all in. It’s you, his date—the prowler. You’re obviously still completely oblivious to what’s transpired and therefore furious,

“Answer me asshole! What good is seeing my face gonna do for you?“ And now, it’s your turn to be completely speechless as Spiderpunk pulls his mask off. Hobie’s dark hair springs out, his pretty face glowing in the low light and a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he watches you swallow the same truth as he did,

“Cant say I was expecting this.” He whispers coyly, eating up the way you instantly grow quiet and flustered, this extra layer added onto your relationship clearly only exciting you more. You gulp nervously, your heart racing at this sudden turn of events,

“Me neither…” You whisper, simply unable to be mad or upset when now you’ve got your cake and you’re about to eat it too.

Hobie doesn’t do much thinking when he unties you and kicks the money aside, or when he tells you to put on that pretty dress and let him take you out properly. You’re completely stunned, staring down at your prowler claws before stuffing them in your bag and walking out the hole you cut into the bank, Hobie waiting against the wall for you,

“So…about all of this?” You awkwardly chuckle, motioning to the bank, the money, and the mess. Hobie being the anarchist he is simply shrugs, extending his palm for yours and clasping it when you place it against his, slinging away into the night to finally go on that date,

“Not my problem.”

—

@ohxx @luxxtuxx @fatenpara @hobesbf @defnot-bri

[kermitkrqb]

A Glimpse of Us pt. 2 || Xavier Thorpe x reader

A/n: Here is part 2!!! You guys are just too adorable for me to deprive you of this any longer!

What to expect: Gender neutral, enemies to lover vibes, hidden feelings, Xavier making the reader hella flustered, confessions!, make out, no spoilers here babes

The two of you shared fencing class yet again and Xavier’s plan set in motion. Usually, when the coach announced for the class to pair up for practice, the two of you just assumed you’d be up against each other as it was the only class your rivalry was welcomed. However, as you were about to walk up to Xavier he had already started a match with Wednesday who was clad in black as usual. She was beating him terribly, having already scored 2 points before he had the chance to even score 1. In any other situation you would have laughed at his predicament, although you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of hurt as he chose her opposed to you. Sensing your loneliness, Enid made her way over to you. She gave you a bright smile as she asked to partner up, an offer you didn’t refuse. The bubbly girl wasn’t half bad at fencing but that didn’t mean you’d let her win. Dodging her blade you lunged forward striking her square in the chest as you scored the final point. The two of you took your fencing masks off and each fixed your hair before she gave you a nod of respect to which you returned.

You looked over at Xavier who was seemingly immersed in his conversation with Wednesday, this of course didn’t go unnoticed by Enid. She gestured towards the tall boy, “So…what’s going on between you and Xavier? The two of you are always together.” You huffed, “Nothing Enid, nothing.” Although, deep down you wished there was more. She reluctantly dropped the subject raising her brow, “If you say so Y/n.” Xavier continued to ignore you the rest of the fencing session much to your dismay. However, you simply brushed it off as you were sure it was only for this session. As rare as it was, you were wrong. He continued on like this the rest of the day, no sarcastic remarks, no challenging you in class, and no teasing. You were extremely confused by his sudden absence in your life, and you genuinely started to miss him. Watching you from afar, Xavier noticed this. He’d look away just before you’d seek him out, hiding his grin as he’d let you stare at him. It got to the point where he’d go out of his way to find different ways to class, he would always walk with you to class.

You were practically devastated when you noticed this, but nobody could waterboard this information out of you even if they tried. It was the end of the day, and all of your shared classes were finally over. You caught a glimpse of his long hair in the hall way ahead of you, your legs speeding up without realising. Xavier realised you were behind him when he finally looked down and gave you a curt nod before continuing on his way. You frowned at the quick interaction, tilting your head in confusion, “Thorpe!” The tall boy paused, quickly hiding his grin before facing you, “You called?” Your brows furrowed, “That’s all you’re going to say?” He tilted his head looking down at you, “What do you mean?” You scoffed, “What do I mean? What do you mean by ‘What do you mean?’” Xavier shrugged biting back a laugh at your flustered state. You huffed, your ears red from frustration, “You- You’ve been ignoring me. Did I do something wrong? Xavier?” He was so close to giving into you, your doe eyes peering up at him were enough to make him weak in the knees. But, you still hadn’t cracked.

Indifferent, he raised his brows at you, “What’s it to you?” You paused at a sudden loss for words. Xavier turned and began to slowly walk away before you blurted out, “I missed you!” He immediately went still, his back still towards you. You were absolutely mortified at what you had just confessed. You had said so little but so much at the same time. The long haired boy turned around to face you, his smirk growing even wider as you refused to look at his face, instead becoming oddly fixated on the loose thread on your blazer. Slowly looking up due to the silence you finally looked at Xavier. Noticing his wide grin, a deep crimson flooded your cheeks, “Are you- Are you laughing at me?!” Much to your dismay, the tall boy cupped your face, stroking your flaming cheeks, “Huh. I think this might be my new favourite colour.” You had finally cracked, unable to form a coherent sentence as the boy held your face in his large hands.

Xavier cut off your rambling, “I really like you Y/n.” Your rambling came to a halt as you gasped slightly, whispering, “You like me?” The brunette chuckled at your reaction confirming, “Yes, Y/n. I like you if it weren’t obvious enough.” You paused unsure how to respond without being a blabbering mess. He sensed your troubles speaking for you, “You don’t need to say anything. I know you feel the same.” Your face was still slightly pink as a playful grin made its way through. You decided to get him back for flustering you so much, “And if I don’t?” Now it was his turn to start stammering, a pink hue overcoming his pale face as he hadn’t anticipated the possibility of you rejecting him. You took his hand in yours, your thumb brushing over his, “Relax dummy, I like you too.” Xavier let out a sigh of relief at your statement before a cocky smirk spread across his face, “Oh really now?”

You rolled your eyes at the boy’s antics, “Really.” A pause of silence fell over the two of you before his lanky arms pulled you closer as he leaned in planning on kissing you. You lightly smacked his arm, speaking in a harsh whisper, “Not in the hallway!” The brunette chuckled at your worries before dragging you to his dorm which was thankfully nearby. Your eyes twinkled with amazement as you looked at the many drawings littering his walls before Xavier pinned you against his door. You gulped at the intimate gesture, Xavier’s eyes staring at your plump lips, “Now…where were we?” Pulling him closer by the collar of his blazer you whispered leaning closer, your breath fanning over his face, “I believe you were about to kiss me.” Eager, the Thorpe boy obliged to your requests, leaning down to press his lips against yours.

You let out a whine at the way he pulled you flush against his body, your hands finding refuge in his long hair. You find yourself tugging lightly on his hair to which he would groan in response. He gripped on to your waist tighter than before, leaving you to gasp slightly. He takes this opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, mingling with yours. Xavier pulls away, and you pout whilst chasing his lips but he refuses your kiss. Your brows begin to furrow in confusion which quickly dissolves when he decides to start kissing your neck. He studies your reaction as he trails across different parts of your neck until he has you panting in need when he reaches the spot below your ear. Sucking harshly on the chosen spot you involuntarily let out a moan. You tense realising what you just did. “Sorry.” You whisper. His signature smirk appears on his face, his green eyes staring into yours, “Don’t be. Hopefully I’ll be hearing more of those.” He doesn’t give any time for your response, capturing your lips in another searing kiss.

The two of you finally pull away catching your breath. You tilted your head as you remembered today’s earlier events, your brows furrowing in confusion, “Wait so, why were you ignoring me the entire day then?” Xavier could only smile at you, “I had to get you to crack somehow.” You gasped at the boy, “Oh my god, so does that mean you knew I like you?” Xavier chuckled at your realisation, poking his tongue in his cheek as he smiled, “Let’s just say it was a lucky guess.”

Me when people comment and reblog after liking:

Seriously though, it means the world. 😌

[buildgrist]

I wrote this last year on Twitter, but since Empty Spaces has sort of abandoned ship, I'll post it here too:

"Funeral"

A woman's whole life changes the first time she sees a combat doll.

First-person, combat doll setting by Twitter user mars_phobos_L1

CW: Harassment, violence, military context, blood, personality changes, conditioning, surgery, unreliable memory

Story below cut:

1.

I washed out of combat training almost immediately, but it wasn’t enough to get me off the hook. I’m sure you all know how it goes – just because you can’t fight doesn’t mean you can’t support the ones who do. If you can’t carry a gun, you can fix a gun, if you can’t fly a plane, you can fuel a plane.

Nothing wrong with that, of course! It’s simply efficient use of resources, and I’m certainly in no place to criticize that, especially not given my current status, so to speak. But even then I wasn’t exactly bothered by it -- I would have rather not been conscripted at all, but maintenance would be safe and interesting and I was already pretty good at it.

2.

The first time I ever saw a combat doll was when I was at the range, trying to get in enough practice to pass my pistol qualifications. I didn’t even know she was there, at first - there was no fuss, no fanfare - but as soon as her handler started barking those sharp, staccato orders I realized what was going on.

I looked over, of course. I know, we’ve all been taught not to make eye contact with the dolls because they might take it as aggression, but how could I not be curious? Can any of you say you wouldn’t be tempted to take a peek?

I hadn’t expected her to not be wearing her mask. All the publicity photos, all the technical diagrams, all the battlefield footage always shows dolls with their masks on, so I assumed that was just their usual state – but no, I was wrong. That was her natural face, with her implant jacks and her surgical scars and her delicate-looking skin. I truly hadn’t expected her to be so pretty…

She caught me looking, of course. Dolls are the apex predators of the battlefield, and noticing a maintenance trainee staring at her was trivial in comparison. She met my eyes before I could look away, and then I couldn’t look away. I knew nothing except her eyes and my heart pounding in my ears, and I had no idea what was coming next… and then she grinned at me.

That grin did something to me, something strange and frightening and wonderful. It felt like lightning running down my spine, like watching a sunrise after being blind my whole life, like finding my way out of a forest I’d been lost in since birth. I was never the same again.

3.

I needed to know who she was, of course. She could pick off targets faster than my eyes could follow, with a perfect bullseye every time. Her handler ran her through everything in our arsenal, and more besides - pistols, rifles, machine guns, throwing knives, on and on - and she was perfect every time. How could I have not wanted to know more after watching a display like that?

Well, apparently, that made me the weird one in the battalion. Everyone I asked about her just shrugged or gave me sidelong glances. Why would they want to keep track of which doll was which, they asked? They were all equally frightening, after all. What did it matter what the shark swimming next to you was named?

It took more than a week - and a couple cases of beer - for me to find out who I’d seen. My buddy on the security team had seen the handler’s name and done some quick research, and he was willing to pass on that information… for the right price, of course.

Victoria. Her name was Victoria, and the next thing he said to me was “be fuckin’ careful around that one,” which didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me at the time. We’re taught to use caution around all dolls, combat or not, why the extra warning?

Because, he told me, there were stories about the Victory-class dolls. They weren’t the fastest dolls or the most powerful dolls, but they were notoriously unpredictable, and dangerous even to their allies. I won’t get into the details right now, that’s not what I’m here to do - but some of your classmates went pale the moment I said her name, so ask them about it later.

But what did that have to do with Victoria? I had to ask, because I used to be a little slow on the uptake sometimes. In case any of you haven’t put all the pieces together: Victoria is the first Victory-class, the flagship, the template upon which all others were modeled – and that meant if there was some fault with the Victory-class dolls, some flaw in their design or their conditioning, Victoria would definitely have it.

4.

Even with all he’d told me, and all I’d learned on my own afterwards, I still couldn’t get her off my mind. Not that I was thinking about her every second, or even every day, but that moment never quite left my mind. I’d lay down and try to sleep, close my eyes, and behind my eyelids I’d see that bare face, that grin, and my heart would start pounding all over again.

By the time we were given our assignments, I knew what I was going to do. I knew what I had to do. I got the cushiest possible position – 8th Supply Battalion, well away from any combat zones, where the greatest danger would be a private driving a forklift drunk. The perfect position to serve out three years of compulsory service and go back to my old life, right?

Except I didn’t want it. I hadn’t wanted it since the moment I’d seen her.

As soon as we were dismissed, I went straight to the commander’s office and asked for a transfer – which they don’t usually do, of course, but he was willing to hear me out anyway, so I told him I needed to be on Victoria’s maintenance crew. Once he was done laughing he asked me what I was really there to ask for, and I repeated my request. I explained to him that I was serious, that I wanted, needed more than anything else, to be assigned to maintenance for Victoria.

He didn’t understand – which is no surprise, because I don’t think any of you do either. Why would I have wanted to be transferred to the only role that had higher casualty rates than front-line infantry, right? Truth be told, I didn’t understand either, and I still don’t. There’s nothing I can point to, no specific reason, just this surety that I belonged there and nowhere else.

Someone needed to do maintenance on the dolls, right? Why shouldn’t it be someone enthusiastic about it, someone fully committed to their role? I don’t know if my argument won him over or if he was just tired of listening to me, but in the end he just shrugged and wrote out my transfer orders: maintenance crew, Victory-class combat doll “Victoria”.

I still remember what he said when he handed me the orders:

“It’s your funeral.”

5.

Just because I’d volunteered for the position didn’t mean I was any less nervous when I first reported for duty! The rest of the crew had already been giving me a hard time - I was the squeaky-clean new girl, fresh out of training - but honestly, they weren’t why I was nervous. That was just some laughs and some hazing, nothing I wasn’t used to by that point.

No, I was nervous because of the six-plus feet of exquisite purpose-built killing machine standing in the middle of the maintenance bay.

The thing is, though.. the reasonable thing would have been to worry that Victoria was going to kill me, right? That’s what you’d be afraid of, that’s what any sensible person would be afraid of! But it wasn’t what I was afraid of.

I’d done my research, I knew the numbers, and I was certain - beyond the slightest shadow of a doubt - that I wasn’t going to survive three years in her maintenance crew. I’d made my peace with that before I ever even walked into the commander’s office.

I was worried that Victoria wasn’t going to like me.

6.

I know that probably sounds bizarre to you - after all, nobody worries about whether their tank likes them, right? - but trust me, it was absolutely the biggest thing on my mind. So much so, in fact, that I decided to introduce myself to her immediately! Why hang around hiding behind the rest of the maintenance crew when I could just walk right up to her and make a good first impression instead?

So that’s exactly what I did. Right into the maintenance bay, right past the rest of the crew, right across those painted lines on the floor… one foot in front of the other, listening to the pounding of my heart until I was within arm’s length of an active combat doll.

I took one more deep breath, accepted that it could have been my last, and gave her the usual introduction: name, rank, and role. She just stared at me, with those intense eyes I remembered so well, and I offered a little bit of extra politeness – just a simple little “I look forward to working with you, ma’am.”

7.

The moment the words were out of my mouth, she grabbed me by the collar and dragged me in, my body pressed up against hers, and as I stared up at her in shock and fear and excitement, I heard her voice for the first time.

“You’re cute,” she said.

There were teeth in my neck before I could even make sense of her words - combat-specced teeth, the kind that can slice through bone - and it was unbearably painful… but also something about it felt right. I was helpless in her grip, completely powerless, and I realized that I’d wanted that all along.

I saw her true face for the first time, then. That flat, blank non-expression she’d been wearing when I walked up to her had simply been another mask, another disguise… and she’d let it fall away. As she licked my blood from her lips, I understood – she was a hunter, a predator, hungry for more and strong enough to take whatever she wanted… and I was her prey.

I suspect your instructor would kick me out of this class immediately if I described what she did next, so I’ll just say ‘she had her way with me and I had no desire to stop her.’ You’ll have to use your imaginations for the rest… or come find me sometime and I’ll be happy to tell you all about it!

8.

Anyway, even though it seemed like I’d made an excellent impression on Victoria, the rest of the maintenance crew was pretty clear that I’d made a pretty poor impression on them. As soon as we were off-duty and the dolls had all been escorted back to their bunker, they made their feelings known in a very direct fashion.

I got off easy, they told me, pointing out maintenance staff for other dolls. One man had a bloody bandage where his ear had been, and another was completely unresponsive – just blankly staring at a wall. In comparison to things like that, a bite and some fucking was downright gentle for a Victory-class doll!

The crew insisted that I’d better not expect special treatment from Victoria to mean they’d give me special treatment too – I protested that I’d never once expected that, but I don’t think they were listening to me by that point. From all the shouts and cursing, it seemed like they were upset that I, the death-wish rookie who walked right up to a combat doll and introduced herself, had been treated more gently than maintenance staff who simply wanted to carry out their duties safely.

I tried to answer them, I tried to explain that all I’d done was to be friendly and polite, that I’d just wanted to treat Victoria with the respect she deserved. They didn’t like that answer.

Nobody told me about this, so I’ll pass it on as a warning to you just in case: maintenance crews aren’t just wary of their dolls, they’re downright resentful of them. From their perspective, the dolls are the thing that stands between them and getting home safely, and they’re not particularly fond of people who see the situation differently.

I, not knowing this, made some helpful comments about the dolls not being our enemy, about our purpose being to support the dolls so they can carry out their Purpose. Shortly thereafter, in a totally unrelated event, I slipped and fell down a staircase – completely by accident, of course.

I’d been hoping that the maintenance crew - and the staircase - had gotten all the vitriol out of their system by then, but it only got worse. Someone had found out that I’d volunteered for the maintenance crew, while they’d all been unwillingly forced into that position, and it was all over. That was all the proof they needed to decide I wasn’t like them in some indescribable way. They might not have been able to explain how, exactly, I was different from them, but they all agreed that I was, and they all wanted to make that my problem.

9.

I next saw Victoria for post-mission diagnostics two days later. The procedures would be routine, and yet the crew was far more anxious than they had been for our previous visit to the maintenance bay. A doll just back from an operation, having spent only a few minutes being gentled by its handler before being sent off to maintenance, was the most dangerous kind of doll as far as the maintenance staff was concerned: all keyed up on adrenaline and battle stimulants and potentially unsure as to whether or not it was actually safe or still on the battlefield.

The crew all talked like they were off to the firing squad, and I had no idea what to expect as we all walked down to the hall… especially when they all hung back, in ones and twos and threes, lagging behind me while I walked up to the maintenance bay first.

I was the tribute, the offering, the fresh meat tossed to Victoria to sate her hunger - and oh, did she ever take the bait. She ran to me, snatched me right off the ground, and sprinted back to her designated zone as if to convince everyone she’d never left.. except now she had me clutched in her arms, her deadly teeth tracing up and down my neck, that beautiful voice giggling in my ear.

The maintenance team had to conduct their diagnostics around me, in the end. Victoria simply didn’t want to give me up, no matter how they tried to convince her -- and I had absolutely no desire to argue with that. Where could I possibly have wanted to be more than her arms?

In fact, I didn’t want to leave her arms. Even once our duty shift was done and she’d turned me loose, bloody and weary and deeply content, I lingered in the maintenance bay as the others fled for the mess. I knew what was waiting for me there - the same thing that had been waiting for me since I first met Victoria - and I wanted to avoid it for as long as possible.

10.

I hadn’t expected her to notice me hanging around - surely I was unworthy of her attention, right? - and yet, as I lingered behind, she spoke to me for the second time. “Not joining them?”

“No ma’am,” I told her, quietly enough for nobody else to hear. I hadn’t meant to say anything else, but the prospect of having a sympathetic ear was just too much, and the words just tumbled out of me. As she stared down at me with that blank expression, I explained how the crew had decided I didn’t belong, and how they’d been treating me since – the punches, the kicks, the fish in my bunk, the thousand other little reminders that they’d decided to hate me.

Eventually I ran out of words and found myself simply staring up at Victoria. She hadn’t said a single thing the entire time, and her expression was the same unreadable blankness that I’d seen before. While I tried to figure out whether she was sympathetic or simply bored, I suddenly realized that she’d met my gaze, staring into my eyes as if she was looking for something. I couldn’t imagine what she was looking for - and, truth be told, I still don’t know what it was - but I stared back up at her and let her look for it.

I guess she found what she was looking for - or perhaps found an absence of the wrong things - because she simply grabbed me by the arm and practically dragged me right out of the maintenance bay. What was she doing? Where was she going? She ignored my questions, of course, so I stopped asking them and simply walked along with her in silence.

You probably haven’t seen a doll bunker yet, but they’re extremely sturdy – downright overengineered, even. They’re even more heavily reinforced than munitions bunkers, and the only route in and out is through an extremely sturdy-looking steel door. It’s the sort of thing that makes the vault doors in heist movies look like tissue paper… and that was the door Victoria had led me to.

Even though I’d walked to the bunker with her willingly, I couldn’t help but protest a little as she swung the bunker door open. I had been told, upon my assignment, that only handlers and commanders were permitted to enter the doll bunker – all support staff were required to stay out in order to avoid ‘unnecessary manpower shortages’. Not that that stopped Victoria, of course! She simply picked me up by the back of my uniform like an uncooperative pet and tossed me right through the door.

11.

Have you ever walked into a room and found eight combat dolls staring directly at you? Sixteen eyes fixed on you, unblinking, like cats that have just spotted a mouse? Presumably not, but if you’re very lucky - or very unlucky - you might get to someday.

That’s where I found myself as the bunker door slammed shut behind me – gracelessly picking myself up off the floor under the hungry gaze of eight combat dolls. They waited a moment, graciously permitting me to get back to my feet, and then… well, I guess the best way to describe it is to say each one started trying, in her own way, to draw me away from my host.

Not a word was spoken, but carnal offers were made, and one or two dolls began to creep toward me as if stalking prey – and then suddenly they all froze at once. I couldn’t receive dollchat yet, so I didn’t know what Victoria said to them - and even now she just giggles when I ask! - but whatever it was, it was enough to convince the other eight dolls not to steal her guest away.

I spent that night in her bunk. I didn't do a lot of actual sleeping, of course, but the moments I did get... having a combat doll holding me close and murmuring sweet reassurances in my ear was maybe the safest I'd ever felt in my whole life. To be told I'm safe now, that the squad will look out for me, that I'm theirs forever…

12.

I hardly ever left the bunker after that. I would have never left, if I’d had the option, but there were still two things I was expected to handle: work and food.

I was still a member of Victoria’s maintenance crew, expected to be present for those duties, and since the necessary hardware was in the maintenance bay, that was where I had to be too. My first duty shift after being taken to the bunker, I’d hesitated – I was even more uncertain about showing my face around the rest of the crew now, after all! Victoria had just returned from a mission, so she would be waiting for me there, but I still had to get from the bunker to the maintenance bay on my own…

Before I figured it out myself, one of the other dolls took pity on me. She took my hand in hers, as if I was a child, and led me to the maintenance bay herself. It was permitted - after all, she was being escorted by maintenance staff - and nobody dared to say she couldn’t stand by while we Victoria received her post- mission diagnostics and I received an entirely different kind of post-mission attention.

I’m not sure if the crew ever appreciated just how much lighter on them she was when I was around, you know? I don’t know if they even noticed, or if they were too busy hating me. It didn’t matter, though – when we were done, Victoria and the other doll walked me back to the bunker, hand in hand, as if they were concerned I’d stray – or flee, perhaps, but there was already no chance of that.

If any of you ever get invited to a bunker, be aware: there’s nothing for you to eat. There is food for the dolls, although it’s terribly bland, but those meals are measured out to the last bite. Even once the whole squad had fully accepted me as their own, they still didn’t have anything to give me – every bite of food for me was one less for them, and dolls are always hungry.

The only way for me to get food would be to get it from the kitchens myself. I’d have to brave the hallways solo, avoiding any other staff, and throw myself on the cook’s mercy in the hopes that they’d be willing to let me take something back with them – and I’d have to do it two or three times a day! It’d be absolutely miserable, right?

As it turned out, that was practically a nonissue. The kitchen staff recognized me on sight - word spreads quickly, especially when you’re escorted to the bunker by two dolls! - and realized that we could solve each other’s problems: I needed food, and they didn’t want to interact with the dolls. If I could come out of the bunker to receive each day’s rations, rather than the staff needing to hand-deliver it directly to the dolls, they’d be more than happy to throw in each day’s worth of meals for me! Teamwork and problem-solving, that’s what we’re trained for, right?

13.

With food resolved and my duties sorted out… well, one day started to blur into the next. There are no windows in a doll bunker, after all -- there’s no sense of time unless you’ve got a chronometer built in, and I sure didn’t. I slept when they let me, I did as I was told, and every time the rations were delivered I felt a little more like I was walking through a dream.

The kitchen staff stopped looking straight at me, eventually. It wasn’t that they were afraid of me - I was no doll, no battlefield predator - but something about me unsettled them. Maybe my body language had changed – after all, I’d been spending more time around dolls than humans, even I could tell that I was picking up their mannerisms, that I was absorbing the way they spoke and moved and held their bodies.

Or maybe it was something else. Maybe there was something in my eyes. I had prostrated myself before the squad and worshipped them for the goddesses they were. I had licked blood from a doll’s body without ever stopping to wonder who it had belonged to. I had given myself to them over and over, even after my stamina was exhausted and I could do little more than accept their desires.

They had made me theirs - with pleasure and pain, with fear and adoration - but they decided I was ready for more.

14.

I’d tell you it was a day like any other, but I don’t even know if it was a day. It was just another moment in the bunker, a moment of laying on a bare concrete floor, my limbs tangled with giggling dolls who simply couldn’t bear to let their plaything go… and then it wasn’t.

They hauled me up off the floor and pushed my back against the wall, one on each side of me, and the rest of the squad parted as Victoria approached, as the doll who’d claimed me first stood over me once more.

“You’ve been fun,” she told me, “but you can be better. We want you to be better. Don’t you want to be better for us?”

Even after all the time I’d spent with them, I still hesitated. I knew what they meant, and I had learned exactly what it entailed. The surgery, the conditioning, the experience of not being human anymore – but wasn’t I already seen as no longer human?

Victoria saw that hesitation, she saw the fear in my eyes, and stroked my head like a pet. She promised me she’d stay by my side the whole time… and she promised to do my conditioning herself.

How could I say no to that?

15.

The surgeons broke me. There’s no way to sugarcoat that. Even without all the modifications combat dolls get, having an arrhythmia control device implanted in your chest without any anesthetic is simply more than any human can bear and stay sane – so I didn’t. I screamed, I struggled and I let myself fall apart.

Victoria put me back together. She reminded me how much I liked being helpful, and how much I enjoyed being useful. She dug up my memories of how much I loved each and every member of the squad, and she made those memories into the core of my personality so I could never, ever forget again. As for the rest of my memories… well, I told you this whole story, didn't I? But everything before the dolls took me in feels distant, removed from me, as if they're someone else's memories instead of my own. It's better that way – I have a whole new life and a whole new family to love.

Speaking of which, Victoria had a surprise for me once I'd recovered, a way of celebrating me as the newest part of their family. One at a time, each doll got up on one of the bunks like it was a makeshift stage and delivered maudlin, overdramatic speeches about the person they imagined I had been before, and we all giggled along together.

In the end, it was my funeral after all.

16.

There you have it, that's the whole story. That's how I went from being just like you to being who I am now. Your instructor wanted me to share it as a warning, a cautionary tale, and I'm sure for most of you it is. But for one or two of you, if it appeals–

Yes, sir?

Understood, sir.

Thank you for your time, everyone! May fate preserve us! Good luck on your quals!

[ju1cyfru1t]

Hiii pooks! 😙 I love❤️ ur writhing sm

I’ve been having such a spider man phase after watching the new spider verse movie and I was wondering what would the turtles think when they figured out reader being NY’s Spider women or spider person like they haven’t told thier turtle bf about it and stuff (live for the drama😵‍💫)

Always love you and def feel free to ignore!

I LOVE THIS thank you pookie 🤭 hope u like it 🫶🏻🕸️ u didn’t specify so I’m gonna assume you meant the rise turtles!

Rise! Leo, Mikey, Donnie, Raph x Spider-Woman! S/O

ROTTMNT x Reader

fluff! :D, fem! reader, contains swearing, not proofread

Leo

- He may not be the brightest mutant, but he is observant

- Probably interrogated the info out of you

- -> “Y/N, where exactly were you last night?” “Oh, uh…I was with, um, April.” “That’s funny…considering April was with us!”

- It didn’t really shock him to find out you had a big secret, what did shock him is what that secret is

- He’s also a little hurt that you didn’t tell him. Don’t you trust him??? But that wasn’t his biggest concern

- “Wait, so like…spider woman as in like, big mama kind of spider woman?” NO-

- You would have to really explain it to him

- But let’s be real, he still wouldn’t understand so you’d have to show him by like climbing up the fucking wall or something

- But he really does think your powers are super sick

- Laughs when you try to explain your spidey senses -> “wait, you’re serious?”

- ^ calls them your “tingly thing”

- maybe you can web his fucking mouth shut

- LOVES your suit, thinks you look stunning and super awesome

- “You know, I always said that was your color Y/N!”

- Invites you to patrol with them! (then he doesn’t have to do as much)

- thinks you’re so hot when you fight (NOT IN A FREAKY WAY YOU FREAKS) and hypes you up

- freaks tf out if he ever gets a web on him, including if you were to swing with him to get out of harms way

- doesn’t ask for them, but he can’t deny he likes the iconic Spider-Man kisses

Mikey

- would just straight up ask if you’re hiding something. Dr.Delicate touch DOES NOT PLAY ‼️

- Of course this would be something you’re hesitant about, but he would remind you that you can confide in him

- Def was not expecting THIS.

- He is asking you a million questions all at once, and will sit nicely and listen as you explain with starry eyes (stop lookin at me with them big ole eyes)

- You’re #1 fan and biggest hype man

- Thinks you’re the coolest person ever fr

- Wants to swing around on your webs with you. Around NYC, in the lair, in Donnie’s lab, on missions, it doesn’t matter he WANTS it.

- THE ICONIC SPIDER-MAN KISSES ALL THE TIME ITS HIS FAVORITE WAY TO KISS YOU NOW

- weirdly interested in your webs 🕸️

- Compliments your suit anytime you wear it around him; thinks your mask is so so cute

- ^ in his free time he’ll sketch and color new suit designs to show you (also just drawings and paintings of you in your suit)

Donnie

- isn’t going to pry any secrets from you; but he does secretly wish you’d come to him on your own.

- so you can imagine his gratitude and relief when you finally tell him what’s up

- Doesn’t really say anything about it, but he doesn’t get why you didn’t just tell him sooner. I mean, you do know he’s a hero too, right?

- he’s fascinated, he’s never seen anything like your powers before. especially because you’re not a mutant.

- really just asks questions about how it all works. Your webs, how you stick to surfaces, your enhanced senses, the whole deal yk?

- He did NOT like big mama’s webs, and he doesn’t really like yours either I’m so sorry.

- ^if he needs them, would ask to use some like he did with Big Mama’s

- It’s not you I swear he just can’t do it

- you could like climb all over his lab ceiling and walls and scare the shit out of him tho

- ^ “Y/N get down this instant! WE TALKED ABOUT THIS-“

- admires your enhanced senses and intuition of danger

- is absolutely gonna make gear for you, as well as offering to make upgrades to your suit

- wouldn’t really directly say it, but he really likes the design of your suit. it just fits you so well. (he IS going to make a purple one for you)

- would scream if you ever just dropped down in front of him to kiss him spider man style

- ^ traumatized; it’s not his favorite thing but he doesn’t mind terribly

Raph

- might take him a while to notice if something is off about you. Leo or Mikey would probably have to directly point it out for him to realize fully

- Isn’t going to beat around the bush and just asks why you’re acting lowkey shady

- really shocked, might take him a second to process even if he doesn’t really know exactly what you mean at first

- honestly he understands why you keep it a secret, just a little saddened that you kept it from him

- He’s gonna need you to really explain your powers

- “…where do the webs come out of tho?”

- would deepen your bond and connection. you can really relate to each other carrying a deep burden and the pressure of responsibility.

- AMAZING DUO with his strength and your agility

- very good hype man

- takes you on most missions and patrols, thinks you’re a really valuable asset to the team

- also calls your spider senses your “tingly thing”

- it’s not that he doesn’t like your webs, something about them just make him nervous. Refuses to let you swing him on them unless he’s in immediate danger.

- does NOT let you crawl around the lair walls, he’s scared you’ll hurt yourself

- ^ “Y/N! You’re gonna hurt yourself, GET DOWN!”

- really thinks you look so pretty in your special suit, he just doesn’t know how to say without feeling like he sounds dumb. He would DIE if it was red.

- “ I really…er, like your costume.”

- very supportive! he gets the struggle of protecting the city, but is happy you get to do it beside each other. :D

- he likes the spidey kisses, they just really fluster him

——————————————————————————

y’all I’m sorry if there is any misinformation in this don’t flame me but I haven’t seen atsv yet

[spdrvyn]

i love my husband — miguel o'hara drabble

fluff. heavy inspo on this video.

sorry for the inactivity and the lazy ass title, exam week came around before i could even start on the next request and i did nothing but relax the entire break (which was only FOUR days) so i'll bring this out and see if i can clear my sched enough to actually do shit. enjoy!

the moonlit sky reflects beautifully onto the shining surface of your mug, filled to the brim of chamomile tea and flooding your nostrils with delight as your body melts into the couch.

work kept you on the edge of your seat for the entire week, it was non-stop meetings and non-stop emergency calls even outside of your working hours that had you so stressed. you were sure you'd picked enough hairs out to make a wig.

the weekend is truly a blessing, you want to stay as far away as humanly possible from your phone and shut yourself out from civilization before you come protector of debra's last minute files.

you missed the soft cotton of your pajamas, not like you haven't worn them in the past couple of days but to actually be able to appreciate what it means to wear them and the greeting of a good night's sleep had you sighing and moaning almost a little too much.

you worked hard, you definitely deserved this. you grab a spare pillow and tuck it under your head turning to the side and looking at the city that surrounded you, your patience and tenacity at the office has now been rewarded with the view you're able to appreciate.

however, the shadow that looms over the carpeted floors of your flat don't go away even after rubbing your eyes. you look up and a faint red glow in the symbol of a very familiar spider catches your eye immediately, you smile lazily through the glass.

miguel slides open the door with no hesitation, cape still drifting in the wind from what you can only assume to be his own previous working activities. you can sense the tension wafting off of him like waves especially as he stomps all the way over to where you are on the couch and looks down at you.

his mask isn't off, he's still fully geared, and all you can do is stare back into those lenses.

that is until he surrenders, body giving up, and his body flops right on top of yours. it doesn't really surprise you, there have been times where miguel has come home after a worse day of saving the multiverse and traps you in a hug before you can protest or move. though you've never really seen him do this before.

he adjusts his position, but still keeps his arms tightly wrapped around you as you move as well so that you're holding him back. his face is buried into the crook of your neck and the feeling of his nose tickling your skin tells you that he unmasked already.

not a single word leaves his mouth, you silently adore the way he's melted into you already, the way the muscles on his back rise only to slowly fall again.

you don't want to break the silence, neither of you do. right now, the only form of communication that matters is touch. your lips burning kisses into his curls, your nose now erasing whatever of your tea was left and making the way for miguel.

he shies away from your touch with a small groan, "i stink."

a giggle threatens to break out from the back of your throat, as many times as he would insist that you'd keep going anyway. "so when you do it, it's fine? i see how it is then."

miguel chuckles, he inches himself into you further. deeper. his breaths become less and less shallow, it's clear that he's taking his fair share of sniffs from you as well. "because you smell good."

"i ran a bath, that's why." one last peck to his head and you opt to just comb his hair instead, running your fingers through the strands and observing as they twist back to curl after brushing it some more.

both of you stay like that for a while, not saying anything, not doing anything, just being here. existing with each other. you always find moments like these beautiful, even when miguel is probably one work call away from shaking hands with the grim reaper.

in miguel, you've found yourself open to so many new experiences and risks you could've never imagined on your own. despite the many amount of times at the start of your relationship that he'd give you space and wouldn't be mad if you left, you kept still by his side anyway. you knew that he was worth it.

in you, miguel found that mundanity that he's never had his whole life. passing out on the sofa on his own never felt the same, most times he'd wake up still in his suit and would have to go to work right after anyway. yet with you, the stress ebbed away over time because he knew that you'd always be waiting for him.

whatever historians had with their relics, miguel had with you. not to keep them confined in a metal case, of course not, but he felt as if you were to be revered. kissed and touched with utmost respect and you'd bring the people their good fortunes and long lives. you certainly did for him and miguel might as well be immortal now.

his hands wander, fingertips delicately grazing over the skin tucked beneath your nightwear. he goes slowly, traveling up to your chest where he—

"miguel?"

his hands freeze, face going red. the guilt of possibly going too far is ready to break free from his heart and consume him until he can feel your body trembling with laughter.

"since you apparently stink so bad, shouldn't you shower first before getting so handsy?" miguel pouts at your comment, he already had the apologies locked and loaded for you.

"just a few more minutes, corazón."

[bisexual-cryptid]

tw: issues surrounding consent (not between steve and eddie)

steve has never really been asked if he wants something when it came to sex. it was always just assumed he was into it. whether it was with various girls he hooked up with or the occasional guy, no one ever bothered to ask if what they were doing was alright.

steve never thought anything about it, just assuming that was normal. of course he would always ask first but he thought that was how it goes. he asks, others don’t. after all why would they? no one ever asked steve what he likes or wants outside of sex- so why would they ask during sex? it just made sense to him, so that’s how it went.

and then he met eddie. sweet sweet wonderful eddie, who always asks before touching him even if it’s non-sexual. it started off before they even got together. eddie would always ask or make sure steve had enough time to move away before touching him. even if it was something as small as putting a hand on his shoulder. it throws steve for a loop everytime he does it. he doesn’t understand why eddie is so gentle with him.

steve finally says something about it around a month into their relationship. they’re laying in eddie’s bed, eddie on top of steve, the two of them kissing. eddie’s hands are trailing down steve’s torso, stopping right before they get to his waistband. steve whines, bucking his hips up, trying to get him to hurry up. eddie pulls away from steve’s mouth, panting slightly as he tries to catch his breath.

“is this okay?” eddie asks, words so soft and gentle it kinda makes steve want to scream.

“why do you do that?” steve can’t help but ask, his curiosity finally getting the best of him. eddie’s brows furrow in confusion, as he continues to look down at steve.

“do what?” eddie asks, genuinely confused.

“why do you always ask before touching me?” steve asks as if it’s the most confusing thing in the world, and to him it is. he can’t think of a single reason why eddie finds the need to ask before touching him. especially since they’ve been together for awhile now. in his past relationships his significant others would just assume it was okay at this stage so he doesn’t understand why eddie doesn’t do the same.

a look of sadness crosses eddie’s features before he quickly schools his face into one of neutrality. he brings both his hands up, cupping steve’s cheeks like he is the most precious thing in the world. he strokes his thumbs in soothing circles while he continues to look at steve, seemingly contemplating something.

“why wouldn’t i? do you not ask before touching someone?” eddie asks, phrasing his questions carefully.

“of course i do, but i just don’t understand why you do it to me. no one ever asks me.” steve scoffs as if it should be obvious. eddie’s face morphs into one of shock and hurt. he always has worn his heart on his sleeve and even when he tries to mask his emotions, steve sees right through it.

“baby-“ eddie chokes out, sounding heart broken. steve quickly backtracks, thinking that he must have done something wrong.

“no, no, i’m sorry eddie. i never should have asked. i’m sorry i upset you, please don’t be mad at me,” steve all but begs, shrinking in on himself as best he can with eddie still looming above him.

“shhh, no baby, i’m not mad i promise.” eddie says, but steve doesn’t believe him. he can see the rage barely hidden behind his eyes.

“yes you are, i’m sorry eddie, please,” steve chokes out, tears starting to well in his eyes. eddie grips his face a little harder, dipping down to force steve to make eye contact with him.

“hey, listen to me. i’m not mad, not at you. i’m furious at every single person who has ever laid their hands on you without asking, but i’m not mad at you. never at you.” eddie replies. steve’s eyes search eddie’s face looking for a lie but he doesn’t find one.

“why?” steve chokes out, unable to stop the tears from slowly falling down his cheeks. eddie quickly wipes them away with his thumbs, stroking at his cheeks with a softness steve has never felt before.

“do i deserve to be asked before someone touches me?” eddie asks, making steve’s head spin with confusion.

“wh- yes of course you do.”

“then so do you, baby.”

steve feels even more confused at eddie’s statement. it feels like an entirely different conversation to him, he doesn’t understand what eddie means.

“but- i mean- that’s not- it’s not the same.” steve argues, feeling like his entire world is tipping upside down.

“of course it is, why wouldn’t it be?” eddie asks, his words patient and understanding.

“because- because you’re you. you’re perfect and beautiful and you deserve everything and i’m- im just me.” steve replies.

“stevie, my love. do you really not have any idea how fucking perfect you are? you are like the definition of perfect. you are the kindest, bravest, smartest, hottest piece of ass i have ever had the privilege of getting to know.” eddie says, making steve let out a watery laugh.

“you might not believe it now, but i swear to you steve harrington i will make you understand how incredible you are if it’s the last thing i do. now, can i kiss you, my love?”

instead of answering steve surges up, bringing eddie into a passionate, watery kiss. it’s a little salty with tears but neither of them care, needing to be connected right now.

steve still might not fully understand why eddie is so kind to him, and he might not believe that he is incredible like eddie says, but with the love of his life by his side he thinks he can maybe start to believe it one day. especially if eddie keeps kissing him like this.

[berriweb]

╰┈➤ ❝ out of this world ❞

: ̗̀➛ ft. miles morales x reader

: ̗̀➛ warnings. none

: ̗̀➛ part one / part three

: ̗̀➛ a/n. i just be writing anything fr, this wasn’t supposed to have another part but now i can’t stop writing, I’ll write a part three when i feel like it and this once against isn’t proof read so if you see a typo no you don’t :)

Miles screwed up.

As he swung from building to building, taking a moment to stop and perch on a street lamp as his head tilted to the side, his eyes were trained on Gwen but his mind seemed to be elsewhere.

Well, that wasn’t the right word for it. It was everywhere. Between trying to find out what was up with Gwen, knowing he was in deep shit with his parents and the fact that he was on bad terms with you, he didn’t know what to worry about more. Before Spider-Man had been an escape from his own life when he didn’t want to deal with it, but now in some sick sense of irony his secret persona only seemed to be making his life worse.

Miles picked up the pace to catch up with Gwen as she swung through the city, but just as she turned a corner he recognized the street they were on. It was where you lived, in fact he could see your building from there. For just a moment he caught himself in a dilemma, slowing down just enough to stick to the wall and climb towards the window he knew was connected to your bedroom. The window was closed, strange considering he knew you had a habit of leaving it cracked even on cold nights due to how stuffy the air in there could get. When he attempted to peak through the small cracks in the blinds, your room looked empty.

Shouldn’t you have been home by now?

Miles let out a sigh and backed up from the window. On one hand, he could’ve stayed to confront you when you got home, assuming you weren’t just in another part of the house, and hopefully resolved the unavoidable conflict you two had. But on the other hand…

He turned back to the streets, seeing Gwen had gained distance in the few seconds he had stopped, almost just out of sight. If he stopped now he’d never get answers. He’d never know what she was really here for or why she’d have to leave, he might never see another Spider-Man again.

The mask hid the guilty expression he wore as he jumped from the wall, swinging from building to building while promising himself that he’d give you all of his attention as soon as he was done figuring this all out before landing at the crime scene of what he’d soon realize would be the consequence of one of his own screw ups.

Surprises weren’t always a good thing.

Between the multitudes of flashing colors and scenes, the exhilarating yet terrifying sensation of never ending falling that seemed to take forever, and the blood rushing to your head, you couldn’t even begin to make out what was happening for you. For a moment, the idea that you must’ve died and were going to the afterlife crossed your mind in the few seconds that felt like hours flew by.

Maybe I tripped and hit my head on the way home? Maybe there was something in the juice and I’m hallucinating? Maybe this is all a dream?

As much as you wanted to believe any of those possibilities, they were all crushed by the realization that you couldn’t have been making this all up when in the midst of falling, you noticed what seemed like a dirty surface getting close and closer. Luckily for you, it seemed like the constant falling did have a destination. Unluckily for you, there was nothing to cushion the fall as you hit the ground with a loud thud and a gut wrenching crunch.

Pain shot across your right side as you laid there, looking up just in time to see the same warping pattern that initially pulled you in shrinking and disappearing before your eyes. ‘What the fuck?’

As aching as your body was, you knew you couldn’t just lay in that spot forever, opting to roll over onto the side that wasn’t throbbing in pain and push yourself into a sitting position. The pain in your side returned and you reached to hold your side, face twisting in pain as you winced. You’d probably broken something, a rib maybe? The adrenaline rushing through you likely being the only thing keeping you from rolling around in agony. Forcing yourself on your feet, you nearly doubled over, taking deep, slow breathes to keep yourself from freaking out and making things worse. Taking a quick look around, it seemed as if you’d been left in a dimly alleyway, garbage cans and bags lining either side. The walls looked old and past due for a pressure wash, but you weren’t too quick to judge, you’d seen worse.

Thankfully, you hadn’t managed to drop your bag and reached to fish out your phone, your other hand glued to your side to manage the pain in your abdomen. Your first thought was the open your contacts, taking a moment to decide who to call before ultimately deciding on attempting to call your mom/dad, but the call only flashed on screen for a second before your phone alerted you to the fact that you had zero service.

How is that possible?

Cursing under your breathe, you shoved it back in your back before sucking it up when you realized you’d likely just have to walk home, assuming you were even near it.

You slowly walked out of the alleyway, the smell of smoke and a rotting stench filling your nostrils that made you scrunch your nose out of disgust. Looking around, you took note of the street sign and thankfully recognized the name. You must’ve still been in Brooklyn.

You were able to map out the way home from where you were, hurriedly making your way there while also pacing your steps to aid your side. There had to be an explanation for all of this. Maybe you had secret superpowers? It’s not exactly out of the question considering all of the heroes and villains you’ve seen on the news. Teleportation, maybe? Or could it be that someone else with powers attacked you?

When you arrived at your home you settled on the fact that the portal must have been time travel, because where your apartment building should’ve been, a massive pile of left over debris and no building was in its place.

“This can’t be right…” you trailed off, looking back to double check you were on the right street. You were, same sign, same letters, but as you took a final look you finally began to notice all of the big and small inconsistencies you’d written off as misremembering things, beginning to wander down the streets. Signs weren’t the same colors as you remembered them to be, shops you visited on the daily were either gone or in the wrong spot, across the street from where they’d been before hand or worse. It wasn’t a perfect city to begin with, but now? Brooklyn looked a mess, and the state of the city left you on guard and suddenly way more concerned that you were out here with no one you knew at night.

What the hell is going on?

Stepping into a convenience store, you glanced around to take in its appearance as the bell jingled and the cashier muttered out a greeting that showed he was clearly uninterested in anyone entering his store. You were going to search for a pay phone, too rattled to bother trying to ask the man where it was. Brands had different names, items were different colors and you could just sense that something was extremely wrong. Finding a phone screwed into the wall, you fished out a few quarters to dial a number as you heard the bell ring again, only to be disappointed when the automated voice informed you that your parent’s number was somehow invalid.

Sighing in defeat, you set the phone back and took the loss of the few coins, dragging your feet as you headed for the exit, but as you reached the door you couldn’t help but freeze in your spot when you recognized the face the cashier was talking to.

“Yeah man, he’s doin’ good. We got some business to take care of later but feel free to swing by tomorrow if you want, I’ll make time,” he chuckled, taking his chance and shoving it in his pocket as he looped the plastic bag around his wrist, dapping up the clerk before heading out the door.

You had ducked into another aisle, kneeling down to avoid being seen with a hand over your mouth as you breathed heavily.

Uncle Aaron?

You were almost certain you had died now. Or at least you wanted to be, but you weren’t dumb enough to believe that. It had to be something more.

As an act of bravery, or maybe stupidity, you decided to follow him. You had no idea what would come of it, but if you couldn’t find your house or your family, making your way back to Miles was your best bet. Oh god, what would Miles think?

You trailed behind down the blocks, keeping your distance and making sure to slow your already unsteady pace to avoid being seen. It was hard to believe the man you were sure had died was now casually walking in front of you, but you didn’t know anything about your situation to be able to make an accurate guess as to what was going on, so you opted to avoid assuming anything.

It seemed like Miles place remained in the same place and in tact, as that’s where you ended up, watching him climb the steps and eventually disappear through the door. Watching from the ground below, you eyed the building before deciding to climb the fire escape. You had no clue how anyone would react to you just walking up and knocking on the door and asking for Miles, as one: for all you knew it could potentially be dangerous, if everything else changed was it possible that your relationships had too? And two: you weren’t exactly on good terms with Miles either. Making it up to the fire escape, you peered into one of the windows, getting a clear view of the living room. Aaron was greeting Miles’ mother, who seemed normal for the most part, albeit a bit more tired.

You couldn’t tell what exactly they were saying, but she had a somber look on her face and Aaron’s seemed devoid of any sort of emotion. It was unlike him, back when he was alive anyway. Shortly after, Aaron left the apartment again and you caught a glimpse of him going upstairs. You took one last look at Mrs.Morales before quickly and quietly following him, catching up just as he got on the roof and peeking up from where you stood on the steps.

He was on the phone, and the few bits of conversation you caught were all talk about some sort of plan and him reminding whoever was on the other end to be on time before chuckling.

“-yeah yeah, your mom just got back home too.” Your mom? Is that- “See you in a few.”

He hung up, and if your mind wasn’t already scrambled enough, hearing that only made it ten times worse. You wanted nothing more than for someone to sit you down and explain what was going on, but that wasn’t going to happen. Maybe if you pinched yourself hard enough you’d wake up from this nightmare. You’d be at home, laying in bed and none of this would’ve ever happened. You never would’ve scolded Miles, you wouldn’t be worrying about your relationship and you for sure wouldn’t be here.

You watched as Aaron seemed to mess around with some rusted device, it being far too complicated for you to know what it was, but he was clearly skilled at fixing it. The air suddenly became tense and you felt something tying a knot in your gut. Call it survival instincts or just a gut feeling, either way you didn’t like it, but it proved to be helpful as just after the feeling passed Aaron’s attention turned from the device to directly where you stood. Your heart sank down to the pit of your stomach.

He knows I’m here.

He rose to his feet and you instinctively jumped back, only to lose your footing on the step you were on and trip, thankfully not falling off but instead stumbling until you hit the railing, a painful reminder of the injury you’d been trying not to focus on.

“Shit!” The pain shot up your side once more, seemingly far more unbearable now that the initial shock had worn off and you gripped the railing.

“Y/N?”

A distorted voice from behind made you jolt and turn your head, holding onto your side and you made eye contact, or what you assumed was eye contact, with a black mask and jagged, glowing white eyes. The person was wearing a combination of purple and black clothing with a seemingly spray painted logo on the front of the shirt, donning gloves with pointed fingers you could only hope weren’t going to get used on you.

You took a staggered step back and bit your lip, suddenly feeling far more lightheaded. You wanted to ask who the figure was. Why were they talking to you- no, more importantly, how they knew who you were, and if they knew what was going on, but now of all times is when your injuries finally decided you were down for the count. Your head felt full of air and your vision went white, the last thing you saw being a clawed hand reaching out to stop you from toppling over the railing as you lost consciousness and fell.

Amazed at the sight of hundreds if not thousands of other Spider-people, Miles marveled at the sight and excitedly greeting most who passed by. He could’ve spent forever reveling in the warm feeling that overcame him that moment, but that was cut short by his spidey sense when he suddenly froze and a cold feeling washed over him.

Something was wrong.

Stuck in place, he glanced around and nothing seemed to be out of place or threatening, but he couldn’t shake the sense that something bad was happening and he was somehow involved.

“Miles, you catching up or what?” Gwen called out from the small distance he’d created.

He smiled and shook his shoulder, giving an affirmative nod as he jogged to catch up with the rest of the group. Was it possible for a spider sense to give a false alarm? Miles wasn’t sure, but he was hoping on it.

╰┈➤ ❝ tag-list ❞

— @go-to-sleep-salem, @justmare, @itzmeme, @zeyzeys-stuff, @luvaline, @chasing-liberosis, @justanerd1, @lilacsandamethysts, @j-natsuka, @planetliaa

if you want to be tagged in the next part just lmk in the replies or my askbox <3

[rayshippouuchiha]

Had a Thought™ about KHR. (excuse spelling mistakes because I WILL be making them)

So the giglio Nero family canonically has the strongest skies right? Like this matrilineal family of Skies has, as far as we know, always held the strongest skies in existence. It doesn't matter who they have a kid with, their first kid is 1) always a girl (far as we know) 2) an insanely strong sky 3) has some type of foresight.

So my thought (story idea/premise IG). Nana is descended from this family in some probably convoluted distant way. This could explain her space cadet behavior. She is LITERALLY not mentally present in the, well present. But she's enough removed from the family line that what she's seeing is probably really confusing and has little resemblance to reality. Also, let's be honest, if you're seeing visions of an alternate or possible future existence and aren't aware what that is about? You probably think there's something wrong with you. To the point you probably instinctively disregard A LOT of things that would be odd or concerning because well, they don't make sense so are probably made up. (Nana basically taking masking to the extreme meaning she doesn't notice/pay attention to the Flame and Mafia stuff because nobody else around her notices/talks about it. So it's probably Not Real)

And then she meets Iemeitsu. Who let's be honest, also has something DEEPLY wrong with him. ( A sky with no guardians? When that's what they DO?! Something is wrong with him on a literal soul deep level.) But he just acts like a mildly eccentric goofy guy, who otherwise is Normal™. So Nana gets attached to him, because she sees something similar in him. And she ignores anything pretty obviously WRONG because well, it's not REAL is it? She's just seeing things again. Plus of course Iemeitsu can't act Normal™ all the time, SHE struggles with that and that's something else she feels they have in common. (Very much modeling the fact that neurodivergent people tend to gravitate towards each other, and ignore stuff that's 'not normal', because for them normal isn't a thing that exists.)

And then they have Tsuna. An insanely powerful Sky child (I think there's mention of him possibly being the future sky acrobaleno at some point? Might just be fanon tho) who from a pretty young age has Hyper-Intuition.

Nana probably assumes her son has inherited her problems regarding seeing non-existent things. She probably ignores the general weirdness of Iemeitsu bringing his boss home and her son changing entirely after the visit, because she can't figure out a logical reason for Tsuna to change, so OBVIOUSLY there can't be anything wrong there, he's just going through a growth spurt!

Tsuna gets bullied in school? Well, so did Nana growing up. The fact the teachers are in on it? Not outside her perception of reality, because that's just how people treat those who are different, who can't 'Act Normal ™'. The problem of course here is that this behavior was Normal™. She was gaslit into believing this was expected and tacitly encouraged by society.

But, there's that little part that's still a mother, and doesn't understand WHY people act like this, and SURELY it's NOT Normal™ for people to treat her son like this!? It can't be reality! Right?! So obviously it's something ELSE her brain is making up, so something she should ignore entirely!

It would take ..... A LOT to have her come to terms with the fact that all that stuff she was convinced wasn't really happening, and just something else her brain was lying to her about, is actually reality. She's closed herself into a teeny tiny box of what she considers reality and anything outside of that obviously ISN'T.

ohoho now this is an interesting take on Nana that I've never seen before and it's so fucking cool

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

something i've been thinking about:

Wally is set up as a sort of "main character" by the whrp. he's said in the site's description of the show to have introduced the main theme/lesson of the day's episode, and then the rest of the neighbors join him on his escapades. but then we have our first glimpses of everyone's actual dynamics and characters through the audios and you look at Wally and its like

first of all, thats an npc. second, nearly everybody else has severe main character syndrome

but its fascinating how Wally is just kind of... There. he doesnt talk much. he doesnt contribute beyond a couple of lines. its more like he joins the others on their shenanigans. he fades into the background. he's off to the side while everyone else holds conversations & leads the moment

Wally, despite being described as Thee character, is borderline background.

& whats even more interesting, within his individual secret audio files and interactions - he's almost chatty. not only that but the way he talks is more confident and faster paced. he's taking initiative. he can be kinda pushy. when talking to the qa/whrp/Us, he acts more like the character his descriptions portray. he acts more like a person instead of a puppet waiting for his next cue

I cant tell if - when around the neighbors - his tepid milk behavior is a purposeful act or if he's masking. and if he's masking, is it deliberate or involuntary? and in regards to both, why is he acting so different? It could be tied to what he's trying to accomplish. if he's trying to "restore" Welcome Home, it would make sense for him to act as he does around the neighbors - he wouldnt want to clue them in that he knows so much more than he's letting on, would he?

but then that begs another train of thought - what if he isn't acting or masking? if there is a time discrepancy between Wally's interactions with the qa/whrp/Us & the more 'official' audios, that could explain the difference in behavior. we could be getting glimpses into "future" (read: current) Wally, who's had much more time to figure himself out since we can safely assume he started out as a blank slate. we could be seeing a more experienced Wally than the one seen with his friends.

of course that line of thinking loses some merit when considering the 14 "bug" audios. or it could lend to it... if we're seeing a more experienced Wally but his friends are only seeing what he allows them to. it's still him, just... a carefully curated version.

in general it could really tie into the themes of identity and change and being other, to me. when you're so different - or you feel so different - that you can't bring yourself to be your most authentic you around your friends. when you feel like you have to hold back and be who you think they expect you to be, or what would be most palatable. most normal. will they accept you as you really are? there's always the fear and terror that the people you consider closest to you won't. or when you're so scared of change that you'll shove down & lock away parts of yourself so that you can keep things as you are. because once they know you've changed, so will they. and really, do you want to even accept that you've changed? what if that's what scares you most of all - that you're different, you've metamorphosized, you can't go back to the way things were because you yourself are no longer the person you were before. there is no reversing this no matter how much you try or pretend